


No World Order

by MadAndy



Series: Tattoos And Alibis [2]
Category: Gamma Ray
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-18
Updated: 2011-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 122,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAndy/pseuds/MadAndy





	1. Induction

_  
****  
_

Induction

 

From blinding lights and heat and noise to the relative cool of backstage, cluttered with bodies but as dark and mysterious as a cave after the wild abandon of the stage. Towels and bottles of water and the smell of adrenaline and sweat, guitars passed to techs and voices calling from all angles; where is - ? and what did you - ? and how did that - ?

Laughter and excitement. Blood pounding through the body and then out again to the screaming crowd, bowing and laughing and away again, sweeping straight through to the green room and jostling through familiar bodies, hearty backslaps and hugs and hands sliding over sweat slippery flesh. Hearts are still pounding and pupils blown with excitement, and it’s going to take a few minutes for the carnival to slow enough to catch the breath. Then there’ll be showers and beers and more laughter and the party will sweep on into the night, out of the venue and down the road and maybe a meal--

Kai bounced through the room, looking for Piet; he wanted to thank him for inviting he and Dirk along to be ‘very special guests’ at the show, giving them a chance to play and have fun without any of the hassle of organising the show themselves. After the long Majestic tour - with all the problems that had stalked them all the way through it - it had made a delightful change. A great way to wind down before beginning the long round of summer festivals, then back into the studio as the winter closed down.

But first he needed to find the man to do the thanking, then he needed to find Hanne. Because after a show like that he was achingly hard, and if he didn’t get--

Kai yelped as his arm was seized and he was dragged through a doorway, the door slammed behind him and a small - but terribly strong hand - was slapped over his mouth. He fought, but whoever had hold of him wasn’t letting go and there was no way he could wriggle free. He fought harder, only for the limbs wrapped around him to draw tighter and teeth to nip at his ear; the sharp pain of it stilled him, and he held himself as quiet as he could, hoping his assailant would mistake stasis for inattention, and then he was going to kick the shit out of them.

“Yeah, right,” muttered an all too familiar voice from beside his ear, his eyes widening in the darkness, “like you could even fucking touch me.”

 _Yoz?_

“That’s me,” whispered the voice again, and the strain was undeniable. “I’m going to let you go and turn the light on and you are not going to scream, OK?”

Kai slammed his eyes shut. Whatever it was she was about to show him really could not be good; this was a woman who could wade up to her damn hips in blood and not turn a hair. And she sounded worried, so he was going to keep his eyes closed for the moment, thanks very much. And it smelled really, really bad in here. Really bad. Organically, bloody sort of bad, like a butcher’s shop on a hot day - and the combination of Yoz and the butcher smell boded very ill indeed.

The harsh overhead light snapped on, pink glow through his closed eyelids, and Yoz spoke once more in that oddly hushed voice that cut through the thick stench like a knife.

“Kai. I’m really sorry to break it to you like this--”

He opened his eyes, and blinked for a moment. Why was the room all red? What was that--

Oh. Oh...shit.

“But, um. You know that girl you’ve been hanging out with?”

So that was what the smell was, then.

She touched his arm. “Kai.”

He took a step forward. Another. One more, and he would reach the pooling scarlet laced with purplish threads and congealing strings. One more pace and he might be able to work out what part was which amongst the white shards of gleaming bone and the darker coil of gut.

“Kai...” and now the voice had a shade, a tone of warning.

No, he really couldn’t go any closer. He could see from here very well indeed, thanks.

Yoz sighed, watching Kai as his back crashed against the wall and he slid down it, brown eyes that usually sparkled so wickedly full of nothing but shock; the pain would come later, she assumed, once the reality of what he was looking at had sunk in. Right now, she thought, the poor bastard was still trying to organise what his eyes were telling him and what he thought wasn’t possible. Most people reacted like this when they saw what a mess you could make with a human body with just a little effort and a touch of creative madness. He’d had a glimpse when he’d seen the demon’s leavings earlier that year, but this... this was a real virtuoso job.

“Kai--” she touched his arm, just a brush of fingertips, but he snatched himself away as if burned.

“Hanne,” he breathed, and Yoz winced. Yeah, here comes the pain, she thought, squatting next to him where he’d curled up almost into a ball, still staring at the leaking, mutilated lump in the centre of the floor. It would have been bad enough, when bounding cheerfully offstage and wanting nothing more than a beer and a blowjob, to discover one’s eighteen-year-old girlfriend wrapped around another man; to discover what was left of her in a pile of bits in a side room....

Yeah, well.

Bad.

“Hanne?”

“Um. Yeah.”

He stared at her, struck temporarily mute with misery and shock, and she saw she was going to have to move fast before he curled up into a little ball of agony and she lost her chance. He took a breath, made to turn back but she grabbed his arm, hanging on despite his snarling, clawing fight to tear her loose, pulling him into her arms and holding him tight. She squeezed him, hugged him, rocked him; he wasn’t crying but still snatching sobs, gasping the woman’s name and shaking, twisting to escape but it was a halfhearted effort, a token protest. Yoz held him until he stilled, then tilted his face up to look into her mismatched eyes. He sniffed, choking back snot and blinking thick tears out of his eyes, tears that felt like hot, rank blood.

“Kai. We have to get Dirk and then we have to run. Do you understand me?”

The truth rang through her words, chilling him to the bone. She was rushing him, pushing him through grief, forcing him to think when he didn’t want to think. All he wanted to do was turn back time and--

She shook him. “Kai. _Later_. We have to run.”

“I didn’t do it,” he breathed, and saw a rare flash of compassion cross her face.

“Oh sweetheart, I know. I know. But you’ve been set up, and we need to get out--”

She froze, and with a hiss plunged the room back into darkness. Kai was pushed back against the wall, taking the chance to roll himself into a ball and blank his mind, try to hide from the awful, coppery smell of all the blood and the deeper, more bestial notes of punctured organs and torn guts. His mouth filled with a rush of saliva, and he knew he was going to throw up if he thought like that. He was going to throw up anyway, just as soon as he got the chance.

The door creaked open, sending a slice of white light across the room, throwing Kai’s balled form into a stark sculpture of bright lines and black shadow, a trembling mass of pain and fear scored and lined against the grey of the concrete floor.

“Kai?” asked a familiar voice, but anything else it might have said ended in a yelp as the speaker was grabbed and dragged into the room, knocked flat and pounced on.

“Glad it was you,” whispered the woman’s voice out of the darkness, “because I’m going to turn the lights on and let you go and you are not going to scream, got that?”

A muffled grunt, then Dirk asking plaintively what on earth was going on.

“This,” said Yoz, and flicked on the light.

She had to jump on him again before the scream could escape, and shot Kai an agonised glance, rolling her eyes as Dirk bit her hand in his panic.

“Is he always like this?” she asked through gritted teeth, “or does he save it for emergencies?”

~*~

Getting the traumatised pair out of the building had been bad enough. Dirk, in his frenzy, had shot into the corner of the room furthest from the carnage and crouched with his head against the wall, fingers clenched in his topknot, banging his forehead against the concrete. Yoz had reached him a split second before Kai, and between them they had just about managed to persuade him that the demon wasn’t back, he hadn’t done it. Neither of them had.

Dirk stared into Yoz’ eyes, the blue white-rimmed with fear. “Did you do it?”

Ignoring the fact that Kai had just frozen at her elbow, not even breathing, she hissed and snapped her teeth at Dirk in frustration. “Fuck’s sake, what would I have to gain? Nothing! No, in short. I did not.”

Kai let out a long breath and she shot back her elbow, catching him in the ribs and making him grunt. “And that’s for thinking I would, bastard. Now come on - there’s clothes in that holdall there. Get dressed because we have to _leave_. Now.”

She had to grab Kai’s arm, assist him to his feet; every time he would get his feet under him he’d spot the torn ruin that had been a person - not just any person, but his Hanne - and his knees would give way, dropping him back to the concrete in a shivering heap. Yoz swore, dragging him up and taking his face in her hands, staring into the wide, shocked eyes.

“Christ Kai. I know it’s bad but you have to get a grip, OK? I need that shine of yours. Just a little bit, eh?”

“ _You_ need,” said Dirk, and she bared her teeth at him again at the bitterness in his tone.

“Yes mate, I need. Because if I don’t get you two are going to find yourselves banged up for murder and I am going to be deader than what’s left of poor fucking Hanne there. So move. Now.”

Whether it was the tone or the content of what she said she didn’t know, but very soon all three were ready to leave. Yoz took a deep breath, and put her hand on the door. “Right. Some...friends...are making sure that nobody is going to see us as we leave. Kai, do you remember that shielding exercise I taught you?”

Silence, and she turned to see him staring wide eyed at the ripped and bloody mess on the floor. Certain parts were beginning to dry out, their surface wrinkling in the open air of the storeroom, no longer the wet sheen of fresh blood but a flatter, darker shine reflecting the harsh gleam of the flourescents. Whatever she’d taught him was lost somewhere in that shocky little mind of his, and she had to get them both moving before anything else happened.

Turning the light out, she took Kai’s hand. “Come on.”

Pushing the door open she took three paces, Kai and Dirk on her heels, eager as she to leave the awful scene behind. Shouts began at the back of the thinning crowd, and she sped up to a jog, people getting out of her way with some alacrity. Swinging around a corner she stopped dead, reversing direction and charging into the two men following her, eyes wide with a mixture of anger and surprise.

Before either could ask her what the fuck was going on there were calls for them to halt, put their hands up; when the pair fled with her, the police who’d been coming through the outer door opened fire. Plaster exploded from the walls, and people began to scream in fear; Yoz put her head down and charged through them all - bellowing like a bull - the two men sticking as close to her as they could, raising their hands instinctively to try and ward off the bullets that buzzed above their heads like savage bees.

A turn down another corridor, a swipe of her hand and the whole place was plunged into darkness as all the lights exploded. Kai stumbled, only saved from falling by Dirk’s hand on his arm; looking up, he could see Yoz’ form outlined in a faint bluish light, a flicker along her arms and torso that didn’t go any way toward illuminating their surroundings but ensured they could still see her.

“Witchlight,” she muttered, “come _on_!”

Panting despite the brief pause the three of them ran on, eventually coming to a side door. A fire exit, Yoz broke the chain with her hands and gestured at the alarm above it, silencing it before it could give their position away to their pursuers. Slipping into the crisp night air they sidled around the building, hanging back in the shadows of the alley; from their vantage point they could see the front of the club, and the posse of police cars gathered there. The flashing beacons lit their faces in a strobing pulse of blue-red-white, bleaching colour from them and fading them into the background, making them a part of the trash and chaos of the narrow alley.

Yoz touched their arms, urging them back; Kai lingered a second longer, watching the ambulance back up to the front door of the club. Maybe if he waited--

Dirk tugged on his elbow, and with a sigh he turned and followed them deeper into the alley.

~*~

They slunk through alleyways and slipped through gates, crossed yards and scrambled over walls until they reached a small, dingy car park. She paused by a blue van, and eyed their surroundings; Kai, tired now, and getting cold, just wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. This was a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. None of it could be real.

He felt arms come around his shoulders, pull him into a very familiar chest, and let Dirk hold him for a moment, comforting himself with the smell and the feel of the muscles under the sweatshirt. He shivered, and strong hands rubbed his arms, soothing him; Yoz touched his hand, squeezed it.

“Kai. Hold on, just for a little bit longer - we’ve got to grab Henjo, and then we’ll head off for somewhere you can have a nice little breakdown in peace.”

Something flashed in his mind, and before he knew what was happening he’d burst out of Dirk’s comforting embrace and grabbed her by the front of her jacket, picking her up and slamming her back against the van. It rocked on its axles, and Dirk yelped at him; he ignored him, shoving her again against the vehicle.

The anger felt good, warmed him from the inside and shoved away the chill indecision and pain.

“You _bitch_. Nice little breakdown? Bitch. _Bitch!_ Do you know what she meant to me? _Do you?_ ”

To his absolute astonishment she grinned at him, and reached up to pat his cheek. “That’s the spirit. Now, if you’ve got to be angry with me to stay focused that’s great - but for now, just get in the fucking van, OK?”

He shook her by the lapels and snarled again, tightening his fists; she cocked an eyebrow, and brought her own arms up inside of his, breaking his grip and shoving him back in one smooth move. “In the van. Before I have to hurt you.”

Dirk grabbed him and shoved him through the doors at the back of the small van, climbing in after him and letting Yoz shut them in. The pair collapsed in the darkness, Kai breathing hard.

“Whose side are you on?” he snarled, still furious.

“Yours,” said his friend with a sigh, and the rawness of Dirk’s voice reminded him that he wasn’t the only one feeling rather lost in the middle of all this confusion. After all, Dirk still remembered having the demon riding in his mind; and although the actual memories had been carefully removed of what he actually did while it was there, the sight of the body must have stirred some very nasty associations.

Yes. The body. Just that. Not a person, not Ha--

Dirk’s hand found his in the darkness, and he clutched it with all the desperation of a drowning man.

The engine started with a rumble, and they were shaken to the floor as Yoz took off down the street in a great cloud of blue exhaust smoke, just another vehicle on Hamburg’s grubby boulevards.

~*~

They parked a couple of streets away from Henjo’s apartment, making their way through the shadows and silence of the small hours of the morning. Kai stayed so close on her heels she’d turned and sworn at him a couple of times; to his surprise Dirk seemed to have the knack of flowing from one patch of shadow to another, barely visible to his frantically searching gaze. He glanced at his friend during one pause for Yoz to get her bearings, and asked him with his eyes; Dirk’s expression clouded, and he looked away.

A hangover from the demon’s time with him, then. Kai had never thought he’d be grateful for anything the beast had left behind, but if it meant one less of his friends being obvious to their attackers then yeah, he was grateful.

The three of them gathered in a doorway, watching as a single police car cruised past, having just pulled out from the front of the building. Kai sighed gently, his breath visible in the chill, late spring air.

“No police,” he said, moving to step out into the light and just march straight across the road. Yoz grabbed his arm and yanked him back before he’d taken more than a single step, flinging him back against the wall and leaning on him with her forearm across his throat and a hand over his mouth, although the tone of her voice remained calm and quiet.

“No,” she agreed, “but police isn’t what I’m worried about.”

Kai shook her off with a dirty look, and Dirk snickered.

“What are you worried about, then?”

She pointed up at the roof, which was alive with dark, crawling forms beginning to flow over the edge and make their way down the vertical sides of the building, shapes indistinct with distance and night. Nothing stood out, not a glimpse of reflection or a single sharp line, not a feature or form that could be readily identified. Like pools of matt black shadow they flowed, poking around the edges of lit windows, drawing back and moving on, crawling like intelligent slime, terrible with purpose. Kai felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up in horror.

“Them,” she said.

~*~

Now scared almost witless by the thought of what might be descending on them from above, Kai and Dirk followed the Magus into the apartment building. She seemed calm enough in the lift, stepping out at the required floor and going direct to Henjo’s door, knocking in as polite a manner as if this was just any other social call.

There was no answer.

“Maybe he’s asleep,” muttered Dirk, beginning to look rather heavy eyed himself despite the fear. Yoz hummed possible agreement, running her fingertips over the doorframe and mumbling under her breath. The silence dragged on, Kai imagining that he could hear a slithering, scratching sound like a million wet rats scuttling in the walls, the sound that his mind insisted the black... things... would make, if he could hear them. But Yoz seemed calm, so they couldn’t be too close; she was still running the pads of her fingers over the frame, tilting her head this way and that, the streaks of electric blue in her hair flashing back the dim hallway lights in a wicked glitter of colour. She stepped back, and sighed.

Then leaned back and kicked the door in with one massive blow, diving through and racing for the bedroom without so much as a breath of warning.

Running after her - a heartbeat later, said heartbeat having been missed in total shock - Kai hit the lightswitch in the hallway as Dirk went for the one in the bedroom, and in the split second before the bulb exploded they saw a scene that might have come straight from Hell itself.

A heaving mass of the black, shapeless things was covering - something - in the centre of the floor, Yoz leaping into the top of it and tearing away handfuls of the stuff, kicking and cursing, crackles of static like wandering lightning bursting from her to sting and scare it away. Dirk and Kai hung on the doorframe, staring wild eyed and afraid at the scene; the mass began to draw back, keening beyond their hearing and whistling coldly, flapping and wheeling in the breeze coming from the smashed window.

It hesitated, and Yoz let out a yelp of triumph, plunging arms and shoulders into it and dragging the torso of a very shocked Henjo out of the hissing, squirming pile of not-quite-creatures. She brushed at them, dragging him away, pulling him and swinging him behind her, giving him a shove toward his friends, who grabbed him.

White faced, he turned wide eyes to them, blood running from a multitude of tiny, scarlet scores across every inch of exposed skin. Torn threads showed on the surface of his jeans, and his shirt was in tatters; it looked like a million rats had been clawing at him, and the horror in his expression suggested that the experience had been at least as bad as that, if not worse.

“Run!” barked Yoz, still kicking at the squamous mass, keeping her eyes on it as she reversed toward the door.

Seizing one arm each Dirk and Kai headed for the door, skidding to a halt at a line of the hideous beings blocking their way through the lounge, crawling over the furniture and hanging from the ceiling, oozing from the light fittings and flowing up the walls like liquid shadow. Icy air seemed to flow from them, the very substance of fear itself; tiny mouths lined with needle sharp fangs opened within the roiling mass, sucking and squealing and chomping as they caught the scent of the three men in the doorway.

“Yoz!” screeched Kai, and she appeared at his elbow, breathing hard.

“Shit,” she muttered, and grabbed Henjo by one ear. “Listen! Broom handle, stick, anything! Where?”

He rolled his eyes and she seemed to understand, diving for a storage closet and dragging out another shard of the darkness before emerging with a broom, which she kicked the head from before spinning the length of plastic and wood in her hands.

“What the fuck--” began Dirk, and she bared her teeth whilst walking to confront the darkness that was now boiling up in front of them like the advancing front of a storm, evil and menacing, destruction in every roll of the soft-looking form.

“It’s the difference between creating something and adapting something,” she snapped, the pole beginning to glow in her hands, “making something from the molecules in the atmosphere is a bitch, but charging a stick is _easy_. Watch and learn.”

From the ends of the pole glowed an extra foot of buzzing energy, an angry blue-white cone of light that stung the eyes with its intensity. Before any of them could ask what she was up to she attacked, flinging herself into the cloud and laying about her with the burning length of wood, slicing and shredding the shrieking horror, illuminating the darkness and burning it away from the inside. She plunged and swore, shredding the beast like so much smoke; but like smoke, it just flowed back and reformed around the walls, sending hungry little pieces of itself to slink out from the shadows of the furniture and pluck at their ankles. Kai yipped, and looked down to see his leg bleeding; a smooth, matt black tendril caressed the skin, and he felt a pulling on the wound. He shrieked, kicking at it, and Yoz turned to him with a curse.

“Don’t let it touch you! It’s trying to drink your blood--”

Dirk choked, pulling Henjo back from a man-sized piece that was trying to grab his arm, a whole swarm of the tiny mouths snapping within it, reaching for the blood staining his clothing. Yoz jumped forward, driving that piece back, then turned to see that they were trapped.

Surrounded, the light began to dim as the swarm rose up the walls, hovering around them with that eerie whistling, sucking noise; it was going to make sure it had them covered from all angles, and then it was going to fall on them. And it was going to tear them into tiny, bloodless pieces after it had sucked every last drop of fluid from their ripped and shredded bodies.

Henjo hid his face in Dirk’s shoulder and moaned.

“Oh no,” she said, baring her teeth at the darkness, “not here. Not now. Not like this. Fuck it.”

She reached for Kai’s hand, and he laced his fingers through hers; she looked him in the eye and he nodded, a quick dip of his head. Whatever she needed to do, he was willing. He was rewarded with a quick, wolfish grin, and she turned back to face the louring cloud.

“NO!” she roared, and Kai felt a drag of a different kind. She was tapping into his energy, his shine, the core of him that drove him and defined him.

The darkness drew back a little, and she let go of Kai’s hand to step forward. He kept a palm in the small of her back, and followed.

“NOT here! Do you want this to be the place of the last battle? Are you willing to weaken yourself and let your forces be pushed back for another thousand years? Because don’t fucking fool yourselves, that’s what’ll happen. You want me? Fine. You got me.”

Kai ground his teeth. The room was filling with power, a static crackle that made the bones of the skull buzz and the teeth itch, lifting the hair on the body and making him want to howl like a wolf. She raised the weapon, the ends almost shrieking bright with a combination of her destructive skill and his raw power.

“Come on then! You’ve got us. Kill us. Kill us, and my allies will throw your rotten souls back into Hell for another millenia. And you fucking know I’m telling the truth.”

The darkness hesitated, drew back a little, and she advanced on it. One step. Another.

In the distance he could hear sirens.

She roared at it again, and this time it was definite - the mass flinched.

“Then let us go,” she said softly.

It withdrew, drawing back from them and hanging in the wreck of Henjo’s home, wavering and billowing, a million tiny mouths snapping and screaming in frustration as their prey walked calmly between the matt black, shifting walls to the smashed door. Kai remained at Yoz’ shoulder, and Dirk practically carried Henjo; at the door, she turned to face the mass again, and bared her teeth.

“Smash and destroy all you like. Kill until you’re sated, like I give a shit. But leave me the fuck alone until you’re strong enough to do a proper job.”

She snapped off the power, and dropped the smoking broomhandle in front of it. The mass shrieked, one massive noise of frustrated fury, and slammed the door in her face, splintering the frame with force of its anger. She spat at it, the saliva hissing when it struck the paintwork, evaporating almost immediately with the heat of her own wrath. She turned and placed a hand on Kai’s shoulder, eyed the other two with a tired, burning gaze.

“You OK?” she asked, and in the mismatched eyes Kai could almost fool himself that he read genuine concern. He nodded.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“We run like fuck.”

 

 _~TBC~_


	2. Dethrone Tyranny

_****_

Dethrone Tyranny

 

They left the city via the backroads, avoiding any of the main arterial routes that might be watched by the police - or other forces, hinted at darkly by Yoz as she hunched over the steering wheel, chewing on a cigarette end. Dirk, Henjo and Kai sat in the back of the van in silence for the first part of the journey, hiding amongst the sacks and bags and lumpy holdalls that were piled there; eventually, however, as she drove hell for leather into the dawn, Kai began to get curious.

“I wonder,” he muttered, poking at a sack, “where we’re going?”

Dirk eyed him from where he reclined, his head propped on a holdall. He’d been laying back and staring at the ceiling, thinking back to the events of the previous autumn and if they might have any bearing on the current catastrophe. Henjo had been curled in his lap, eyes shut, apparently sleeping; a gleam of reflection showed that his eyes were open, watching Kai as he began to fidget.

The van swayed as Yoz made a turn, apparently driving in a circle until it bumped to a halt, the engine coughing once before it died. Sunlight flooded the back as the doors were flung open, and a familiar, heavily tattooed hand reached in to assist the three men to get out. Groaning and stretching they scrambled free, finding themselves in what appeared to be a deserted farmyard. Yoz stepped back, turning away from them a little to light a cigarette; puffing out a long stream of grey blue smoke she eyed the three, not saying a word until they’d stretched and blinked the weariness from their eyes.

“Where are we?” asked Kai, peering around with interest. Yoz shrugged.

“Nowhere, really. But I thought you guys might want to...talk. Ask questions. This was the first even remotely safe place I could stop - and I just thought...” her voice tailed off, and she shrugged again, squinting at the sway-backed roof of the abandoned farmhouse as though answers could be found in the rotten gaps, told in a meaningful pattern of moss and broken slate.

Kai walked around to the front of the van and sat on the bonnet, wrapping his arms around himself while he stared across the brightly lit, verdant green of the countryside. What did he want to ask? What could he ask? And even if he could think of a question - what would he think of the answers?

If there was one thing he’d learned from his little trip outside of reality with Yoz, it was that nothing stood in isolation. Every event, every being, every _thing_ was connected, in one way or another; a question about one thing answered would merely bring another two questions, ignorance multiplying like the heads of the Hydra with every answer indulged. Normally that dance would amuse him, keep him happy for hours, but now, about this? Too damned important.

The answers mattered too much.

Low muttering of concerned voices floated across the van to his ears, but he ignored them. Whatever they were talking about was probably important, but right now he didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Not the music, not recording, not money, nothing. Nothing mattered but that a delightful young woman that loved him was dead, murdered in the most horrible fashion - and although he would shortly be wanting to know why, right now all he wanted to do was mourn.

She’d been so sweet--

Footsteps crunched their way through the gritty mix of gravel and rank, weedy growth, and he looked up just in time to see Henjo limp up to him, parking his bottom on the bonnet of the van alongside him. Just a glance of those sympathetic brown eyes and Kai had to look away, focusing as hard as he could on the horizon so the burning under his eyelids didn’t become tears. Not now. Not openly. Not yet, anyway. It was still too fresh a grief to share.

Henjo looked away, but leaned and bumped their shoulders together.

“You OK?”

Kai sniffed, hard. “Yeah. Yeah. She say where,” and he sniffed again, giving his nose a quick wipe on his sleeve and clearing his throat, “where we’re going?”

Henjo leaned in again so that their bodies were pressed together from hip to shoulder, shuffling one foot across so that their thighs touched. Kai leaned against the solid, reassuring form of his friend, even though they still didn’t look at each other; they didn’t need eye contact. Touch was enough.

“Harzburg,” said Dirk, also appearing around the front of the van, shadowed by Yoz. She was holding her face curiously blank, shielding any expression that might give away her plans.

“The mountains,” replied Kai, and she nodded.

“There’s a house there we need to stop off there. I can get a progress report and we can get - well. It’ll be a more comfortable place to rest up and decide where to go next...”

Henjo looked up at her sharply. “You mean you don’t know?”

She grinned at him, and huffed cigarette smoke from between her teeth. “Good, innit?”

~*~

Back on the road, and the weather had closed down. Filthy rain blattered against the screen, the wipers doing their best to keep a small section clear for Yoz to see through; mist on the inside didn’t help, and she was hunched over the wheel smoking and grumbling, every now and again having to use her sleeve to scrape away enough vapour so she wouldn’t drive them straight over the edge of the road. Dirk and Henjo had curled up in the back of the van, falling asleep on the lumpy padding of the luggage - the purpose of which the Mage hadn’t yet explained.

Kai, unable to sleep, wriggled over the back of the passenger seat and curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring at the long, grey ribbon of tarmac unfolding against the backdrop of rain-washed countryside. Yoz shot him a sideways glance, but didn’t speak.

“So why not Dan?” he asked, suddenly. She huffed smoke through her nose, and leaned forward to swipe more mist from the screen.

“Buckle up.”

“What?”

“Seatbelt.”

Grumbling, Kai uncurled and found the belt, clicking it home and turning to her with a flick of his eyebrows. “Better?”

“Don’t take the piss. If I wreck this shitheap you’ll be glad of it.”

“You are planning to wreck it?”

“No. But you never know your luck, do you?”

Kai fell silent, frowning out the side window and watching the endless procession of sleek BMWs and Mercedes swishing past them, shiny paintwork dulled by the rain but still gleaming with power as they thundered along the road and left the little blue van wallowing in their wake.

Yoz chewed her cigarette and growled, apparently no happier than Kai himself. If she’d said they could have taken his car; more comfortable and a damn sight faster. He sighed and lit a cigarette of his own, cranking the window down a crack to let some of the smoke escape while keeping the bulk of the rain spray out.

“Why,” asked Kai again, brow creasing in a frown, “didn’t you steal something a little... faster?”

“Who says I stole it?”

“Don’t tell me you bought it.”

She chuckled, flicking the indicator and overtaking a tractor. At least out here on the slightly more rural roads their bumbling progress wasn’t slowed too badly by their decidedly elderly vehicle. On the autobahns it would have been embarrassing, but out here they shambled through small towns and villages, ambled along the busier trunk routes and had time to appreciate the scenery.

Were it not for the fact that his girlfriend had been murdered and they’d been hustled out of town pursued by mattblack nightmares that seeped through the corners of the room it would almost have been enjoyable. A bit like being on the road back in the early days when he was a teenager, all angst and pimples and red hair and freckles. Nothing but a guitar and an amp and a head full of dreams.

“No, I didn’t buy it. But you know what it’s like; sometimes you just have to make the best of what you’re given.”

Kai counted to ten in his head in German, then in English and a third time in Spanish. Yoz was cagey at the best of times but this... this was trying his patience.

“So who’s chasing us?”

“The bad guys.”

“And we’re the good guys, are we?”

“Sort of. We’re on the side of Light, anyway; concepts like ‘good’ and ‘evil’ become a little murky when you’re this far out in the twilight zone. Light is neither good nor evil; it just is. You can work terrible acts of destruction just as easily under the sun as you can at midnight. Remember that. It’s important.”

Gibberish, again. Perhaps if he asked her something specific she might give him a straight answer.

“Who killed Hanne?”

“Dunno,” the answer was fast and smooth, too glib to be the truth and yet he couldn’t feel the lie, if it were a lie. Before she’d left him the last time Yoz had taught Kai a few tricks; parlour games, she’d called them, tiny glamours to amuse the stupid. One of them had been how to pick up the vibration of an untruth, an intuitive method of collecting together all the tiny signals a human being puts out when he or she attempts to describe the world as being other than it really is. However, this statement had the smooth surface of truth under his teeth and along his palms, not the sandy, itchy metallic grate he’d learned was the taste of a lie.

It didn’t, of course, mean she was being honest with him. It could have meant that she could hide her intentions from him, or she may have believed she didn’t know. Or any one a thousand other reasons that he may never get to the bottom of, but--

“I really don’t know, Kai. I have a good idea why, but the telling of that can wait for a bit. But who? No. Dunno, mate.”

He snorted, crossing the streams of smoke from mouth and nose with wry amusement. “I forgot. You can read minds.”

“Well, if you will sit there with your thoughts all lit up in red bloody neon, what’d you expect? Twat.”

Try again. “So are we going to get Daniel?”

“No.”

He waited, tapping the ash from the end of his smoke on the floor. He wondered if he ought to wait her out, then reflected to himself that time was a fluid commodity to this woman, and she could happily sit in silence for weeks if she so chose. Therefore sitting here and waiting was a mistake and anyway, it was boring.

“Why not?”

And annoying Yoz was a way of speeding the journey.

“He’s in France with his band - as you know very bloody well - and there’s others keeping an eye on him. If it looks like he’s going to come under attack then he’ll get pulled out pretty quicksmart, believe me.”

Believe me. Not trust me.

It seemed a significant difference, somehow.

“Who’s going to pull him out?”

“Friends.”

“Of yours? Or are they just generally friendly?”

Yoz shot him a sideways glance that spoke volumes. She knew exactly what he was up to, and was for the moment indulging him; her patience was not endless, however, and he figured he might as well make the most of it while he could.

Her irritation crackled over his skin like the ghost of static, tiny claws catching in the fine hairs on his arms and making him chuckle.

“So why,” he began again, beginning to get into his stride, “are we driving and not--” he racked his memory for the word, and beamed around a fresh cigarette as he called it to mind, “translocating?”

The cigarette lighter sprang out with a click, and he plucked it from its hole with a movement almost elegant in its sparsity. God, but this took him back. Hammering across whole countries in a series of vehicles one step from the scrap yard, so broke they even had to be frugal with the fuel for their lighters, passing the electric hot coal back along the car until it died cold and black.

“You know the answer to that one.”

“Too much power?”

She grunted an affirmative. Score one for him, then.

“So they are magic users, too.”

Another non committal noise, and another wipe of the screen, this time accompanied by a bad tempered growl.

“Because they could track us from the power surge, and they are people you don’t want to find us because you would be too tired to fight them when they found us. So we’re up against magic again?”

She shot him another sideways glance, then snorted. “They have several aspiring Mages and sensitives with them, you’re right. But it’s a whole lot more complicated than you might think - we’re a very small part of a much bigger picture. Face it, Hansen - most of the world doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

He rocked back, a little hurt. “So why kill Hanne, then?”

“Because I _do_ give a fuck about you. And you’re a way to get to me. End of fucking story.”

There seemed to be no answer to that, so he smoked his cigarette in silence.

~*~

It took them two days to reach Harzburg, only being able to make the briefest of stops for food and hygiene; Yoz drove all the way, never once taking so much as a nap. When questioned about this she just shrugged, saying that she could stay awake as long as she needed to so stop worrying. The argument had ended when a news piece came on the radio about how Kai, Dirk and Henjo were all being sought for the murder of Hanne Becker, and how their record company had put up a reward for information leading to their arrest.

The three of them had climbed in the van without the usual argument over who was driving, and been very subdued for the rest of that day.

They’d had one close call when they’d dropped through a village just north of the mountains they were heading for; the police must have had a tip off, because as they swung into the main square they joined the end of a long line of traffic, blue lights flashing a little up ahead. Yoz stiffened in her seat, Kai’s face appearing over the back of the passenger seat like that of a surprised dog, alerted by the odd little link they seemed to share.

“Trouble?”

“Could be. Keep your heads down eh?”

Kai ducked down, but tried to stay where he could see what was happening; a swift crack on the top of the head from Yoz’ elbow had him hiding properly once more, grumbling at the rough treatment.

“Can’t you just hide us with magic?” asked Dirk’s voice from under one of the blankets piled in the back. Yoz hissed between her teeth.

“No. Because there are eyes all over the place - and if we get spotted we’re sunk. And you know as well as I do that there’s more than normal eyes looking out for us.”

There was a brief silence.

“Fuck,” said Kai clearly, and she grinned.

“Well, yeah. Now lie still and _keep quiet_. Got that?”

Reaching the front of the line Yoz rolled the window down and began to chatter at the policeman in English; he struggled to make her understand that they were searching for dangerous fugitives and could they look in the back of her van?

Flapping her hands and being as English as she possibly could - which consisted, in a large part, of just repeating herself loudly and slowly in English whenever the policeman wasn’t making himself crystal clear - she kept up the charade until the group of police just threw their hands in the air and let her go on out of sheer frustration.

“Fuck, if they were travelling with this one they’d have killed her too,” said the one - in German - standing by her window to the one who had his hand on the catch of the van’s rear door, preparing to open it and look inside. “Don’t bother with that. Just let her go so she can be somebody else’s problem.”

Yoz was still talking loudly and slowly when the policeman waved her back into the van with a smile, and she drove away slowly, waving out of the window at them and smiling merrily. The three lay silent in the back, hearts pounding and adrenaline still coursing from the closeness of the call; they’d heard the catch on the door creak, and if the policeman had opened.

The van rounded a corner, and Yoz exploded.

“Son of a _bitch!_ How dare he! Motherfucker! Killed me too my arse, if that fucker can catch anything more complex than a virus I’d be very fucking surprised--”

The three sat up, grinning. Relief flooded the air; they were past and they were still free. Kai popped up over the back of the seat and listened to Yoz swear at the top of her voice for a while.

“You speak German?” he asked her, and she subsided with a snarl and a sideways glance.

“No. But I can read his mind - and his thoughts were even less pretty than his words, believe you me. Fucker!” she spat, going back to her tirade as the three flopped in the back and laughed, rubber limbed with relief.

They were still free.

~*~

She’d allowed Kai to ride shotgun - after he’d won an ugly little argument with Dirk and Henjo, who were getting very fed up of travelling sprawled in the back of the van - as they approached their destination, something she’d described merely as the Harzburg House. When asked whose house, she’d just shrugged and told him that all would become clear, in time. He’d considered arguing with her about it, but the dark shadows beginning to appear under her eyes and the strain in her expression advised him that now might not be a good time.

“Wise man,” she’d muttered, lighting another cigarette and scrunching herself down in the seat.

They climbed into the hills, surrounded by the fresh sights and scents of spring in the forest; birds flitted through the budding branches, and Kai wound the window down to enjoy the fresh breeze on his face. Yoz, on the hand, grumbled and glanced around the vehicle as though the trees themselves were a threat.

“Will you relax?” Henjo had muttered from the back.

“If you knew what was watching for us you’d find it hard to fucking relax,” she’d growled, and then had fallen into a long, sullen silence.

They took smaller and smaller roads before finally turning onto what was almost a dirt track, a gravelled, twisting path that she fishtailed the van up with an ease that spoke of considerable experience. Kai and the others just hung on and tried not to think about the drop that yawned on the right of the battered little van, broken branches indicating where other vehicles had crawled clumsily up the same incline.

Gunning the engine one last time she crunched through the gearbox, taking a fast turn and driving hell for leather through an impressive set of wide iron gates, slewing the vehicle to a halt in the courtyard that opened out beyond them. She turned the engine off and sat for a moment, drumming her fingers on the wheel; Kai reached for the handle, but her voice stopped him.

“Let me speak to them first, OK? You’ll know when it’s safe to get out.”

And with that cryptic comment she got out, slamming the door shut and moving around to perch on the bonnet, lighting a cigarette and stuffing both hands in her pockets while she scanned the towering front of the house, puffing serenely on the cig, mismatched eyes missing nothing in their apparently casual search.

The house was more than they had anticipated; from the little she’d said they’d been expecting, well, a house. The sort of thing one family might live in. This place, however, had more in common with the old fortified castles you saw looming on the hilltops than any of the dwellings any of them had ever seen, let alone lived in. The frontage was stone, with arching windows and solid oak doors, studded with iron and not looking very welcoming at all. The roof could just be seen behind crenellations, and Kai was sure he saw movement; whoever lived here, they certainly weren’t rolling out the red carpet for the Mage. If these were supposed to be friends, then he dreaded to think what sort of reception they might have got from enemies.

Yoz sighed and let her eyes drift shut, just relaxing into the spring sunshine and wishing that the paranoid bastards would just come out of hiding and get it over with, already. She really wasn’t in the mood for this shit.

The sound of the massive wrought iron gates clanging shut behind them made the three men in the van jump; she felt it twitch on its axles behind her and snorted, softly. About time too. Had she been up to no good she would have been through the doors already, and would be wreaking bloody destruction on them--

“Take your hands from your pockets and turn around, slowly.”

She blinked her eyes open, finding herself looking down the barrels of a shotgun, the sunshine gleaming from the blued steel and raising the scent of oil and metal, underlaid by the bitterness of the powder and the nervousness of the man wielding the gun. Smirking, she spat her cigarette end at him, chuckling when he flinched away from it; he growled and waved the business end of the gun at her again, so with a shrug she did as he asked.

He propped the muzzle against the base of her skull and reached forward to rummage through her pockets, all the while rattling out questions; who was she, did she have clearance to be here?

Yoz ignored him, remaining as still as a statue, although she did drop a covert wink through the windscreen to a positively horrified trio of men still lurking in the back of the van and watching the action through wide eyes.

She waited until the youngster - he couldn’t, she reflected idly while she directed a little more blood to her muscles to warm them for her next move, be more than twenty - was twisting himself around to get a hand in a front pocket of her cargo pants before she jumped him. He didn’t have time to pull the trigger and blow her head off, which is what he thought he was going to do if she moved; instead, he found the weapon ripped from his hands and his nose smeared over his face by the back of her head, his guts kneed and his balls kicked. And while he was curled around the very personal universe of pain - wondering if his fingers were as broken as they felt - he heard the roar of the gun over his head and promptly wet himself.

“Actually?” said the strange woman standing over him, “had I actually shot you you’d never have heard it. You never hear the one that kills you, y’see.”

“Yolanda!” yelled a woman’s voice, half exasperated and half pleased, “ _what_ are you doing to the poor boy?”

“Moira?” asked the Magus, lifting the barrel of the gun and turning to face the newest arrival, who’d come running out of a side door even before the shot had been fired. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you,” said the woman, a little breathless, “co-ordinating the defence. But you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be--oh. Who’s this, then?”

Kai, Dirk and Henjo flinched when the back doors of the van were flung open, letting the afternoon sunlight illuminate them reclined on their lumpy luggage bed. Yoz leaned on the door and lit a fresh cigarette while the other woman peered at them, soft brown eyes alight with curiousity.

“Moi, let me introduce you to Kai Hansen, Dirk Schlächter and Henjo Richter. Boys, this is my friend Moira. Be nice to her. She’s the only long term friend I have that isn’t dead, in Hell, or hate me.”

They blinked at the light and let the new face help them out of the van to stand and stretch - and stare, rather wide eyed, at the rapidly approaching ring of men all carrying shotguns.

“Welcome,” sighed Moira, “to the Harzburg House.”

~*~

There was a moment of confusion as the courtyard filled with people, milling and shouting in a dozen different languages; Yoz rolled her eyes and ignored them, leaning on the open doors of the van and hooding her eyes against the brightness of the afternoon while the argument went on. After a while the woman she’d called Moira - who was, they noticed, the only person present apart from the Mage who was English - plucked at Yoz’ arm and nodded her head toward the building.

“Come on. If we don’t move this inside they’ll be shouting until-- well. You know.”

“I do indeed. Come along boys, stick close and if anyone tries to stop you,” she grinned and passed the captured shotgun to her friend, “kill them.”

That stopped a lot of the shouting, and an avenue opened up for them; they caught snippets of conversation, whispered words, but mostly tried to keep up with the hurried discussion the two women were having as they strode toward the impressive facade of the house.

“I wish you’d given us some warning--”

“No time.”

“You know we’re going to have a complaint from the local vampires, don’t you? They’re still pissed off at you.”

“So they should be.”

“You shouldn’t take it so lightly--”

“Screw ‘em. No, better, stake ‘em; in fact, have you got any here? I could do with a good--”

Henjo shot Kai a sideways glance, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Vampires?” he hissed, but all Kai could do was shrug. Dirk had gone a bit pale, though, and hunched his shoulders, looking at the floor and scuffling along in the wake of his friends. Kai tuned back in to the conversation ahead of him.

“Richard is here, but he’s not had much sleep.”

“Who has? I’ve been awake for a week, Moi.”

“Again? Yoz, I’ve told you about--”

“Yeah, yeah. I know...”

They’d swept through the huge front door and were now hurrying along elegant corridors, high ceilinged and tasteful oil paintings on the walls, thick carpet runners down the centre of the apparently endless passageway. Doors and alcoves lead off to who knew where, the occasional one with the door standing ajar giving tantalising glimpses of what lay on the other side. Yoz cocked her head at the other woman and raised an eyebrow, never slowing their pace.

“You’re holding that gun awfully professionally.”

“The library was attacked.”

Yoz pulled up short, causing almost the whole procession following to pile into the back of her. “What? When?”

“Three days ago. I learned a lot of stuff in a very short space of time,” said the other woman with a grim shake of her head, and Yoz snorted.

“I bet. Come on,” she added, striding off down the passageway as though it hadn’t been her that had stopped them all in the first place. Before long they came to a small atrium, off which was a smart door; in front of it stood a very large man holding a shotgun in high port, eyeing the approaching cavalcade without so much as a flinch.

Kai, Dirk and Henjo shuffled a little closer as the chill gaze swept over them, but Yoz stomped right up and glared.

“Move.”

The man looked down his nose and cocked an eyebrow.

She sighed, and before anyone could blink had shot a knee into his groin; as he began to crumple she grabbed him by the lapel and whipped her head forward, smashing his nose all over his face with a resounding crunch. She stepped out of his way and added a punt to the gut for good measure, kicking the dropped shotgun over the marble floor toward the little fountain before leaning back and booting the door in.

Stepping over the groaning heap of guard they found themselves in a large, airy office. Behind a spreading expanse of rosewood desk sat a large, grizzle haired man; he must have been in the process of dictating a letter, because a pretty girl who had ‘secretary’ written all over her had leapt to her feet, pressing her hand to her mouth in horror at the sudden intrusion. The man, on the other hand, simply laced thick fingers together and cocked an eyebrow at the invading force.

“Don’t be such a bloody cliché,” snapped Yoz at the woman before dropping into the seat opposite the office’s resident, “and hello Richard.”

“Ms Bowsher,” sighed the man, and Yoz propped her boots on the desk and lit a cigarette. The secretary opened her mouth to make a remark; Richard flicked a hand at her and she shut it with a snap. Yoz snorted a long plume of smoke at her, and grinned.

“I need a favour.”

“Of course you do,” said the man, and looked up at the others for the first time. “Mr. Hansen, Mr. Richter, Mr. Schlächter. Welcome to our home. Please, take a seat.”

Giving in to the confusion the three dropped onto a long couch against the back wall of the office, and settled in to watch the confrontation. On the whole, they thought it was a very odd way to behave if you were asking a favour from someone; but then, Yoz never did anything the way you might expect her to.

“I need somewhere to stash these three until we’re all done,” said Yoz without any preamble, and the other man cocked his head at her.

“Somewhere?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” said Moira quietly, from where she leaned on the wall next to Dirk. He shot her a guarded glance; her voice had been heavy with pain, and he could understand that.

“Well, yeah, but--”

The man leaned forward and raised his eyebrows at the Mage, pinning her to her seat. “How much have you told them? Master Davidson’s assessment is correct; there is no one place on the planet safe for any of us, not now. Not until this is over and Moriah’s wind has blown itself out.”

Yoz leaned her head over the back of the chair and gave the other woman an upside down glare. “Master Davidson? Didn’t I warn you about getting too close to these bastards?”

Kai laughed under his breath when the other woman - despite her confident manner, and the shotgun she handled so professionally - blushed and looked at her feet. Yoz sighed, and turned back to the man behind the table.

“Alright, point taken. But I need a bolthole for a few days, and you’re it.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You ought to be.”

“Would someone,” interrupted Kai from his seat, becoming bored enough to start getting angry now that it looked like nobody was actually going to shoot them, “please tell us what the fuck is going on?”

Yoz grinned at the grey haired man, mismatched eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Artistic temperament,” she said, and laughed.

~*~

In the end they were shown to a comfortable, small lounge equipped with all the necessary items for a full debriefing; as she was the one who had the best relationship with the itinerant Magus Moira had been chosen to be her liaison for the time she - and her guests - spent here at the Harzburg House.

Yoz settled herself into a seat at the end of the long table, propping her boots on it and folding her hands on her stomach.

“Yo-lan- _da_ ,” she sighed, getting nothing but a wink in return.

“Just give ‘em the whys and wherefores, Moi, then we can all get some rest.”

The woman turned back to the three men. “So, where to start?”

“Where,” said Henjo, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “are we?”

The woman nodded. “As you may know, we are in the heart of the Harz mountains. You are in the Harzburg House of the Rosicrucian Order; the man in the other room that Yoz was so rude to--”

“Could have been worse,” she grumbled from the end of the table.

“-- is Richard Klinsmann, Head of this House, Grand Master of the Fifth Degree of the Order.”

“Big cheese.”

“Yoz, do you want to tell this?”

“Sorry.”

Kai’s eyes were alight, watching the rapid exchange between the two women with amusement. “So who are you?”

“Me? I’m just a librarian.”

A disbelieving snort from the shadows earnt the snorter a swift obscene gesture from her friend, who then blushed.

“Fine. I’m the Head Librarian of the Rosicrucian Order; I used to be based in the main library in the UK until it was attacked three days ago. Now I’m overseeing the dispersal of the most valuable books and papers to various other Houses across Europe; that way not all of them will be destroyed in the coming war.”

Dirk’s head shot up, blue eyes wide with alarm. “War? What war?”

The woman cocked her head at him, the brown gaze soft. “You’re the one who had the demon last year, aren’t you?”

Dirk nodded, dropping his gaze. The librarian bit her lip and walked to where he sat, laying one hand on his shoulder in a gesture of compassion. “I heard about that. It must be unbelievably hard for you... but the war that’s coming isn’t the one between Heaven and Hell. It’s a bit more fundamental than that.”

Kai gave a bark of laughter. “ _More_ fundamental than Heaven and Hell? Impossible!”

“And you would know, what with being a rock musician and all,” snapped a new voice, undeniably English and male. The three men turned to the door, and the new speaker; round faced, with straight blond hair that was tied back in a neat ponytail and small round glasses, he scowled in at them all. Hands stuffed in the pocket of his pale denim jacket he snorted at them before turning to their dozing Magus.

“You nicked my sodding van!”

The Magus ignored him.

“You,” said Kai to Yoz, his expression stern, “told me that you didn’t steal it.”

Yoz cracked open an eye.

“Hello Jason. And I didn’t nick it - we’re on the same side, aren’t we mate? So it was just... redistribution of resources.”

“You left me stranded!”

“Oh, _Yoz_ ,” sighed Moira.

“They’d busted you, you pratt. At least me taking the motor meant they ran themselves ragged chasing me up and down the Rhine for a few days.”

“Who did?” yelled Kai, finally losing his temper. “WHO is chasing? Who is following? Would somebody please tell me what the fuck is going on here?”

The other man came into the room and plopped himself into a spare chair, staring at the shorter redhead in amazement. “You let her drag you all the way up here without knowing who you were running from?”

He took his glasses off and polished them on a cloth he pulled from his top pocket, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head. Putting the glasses back on, he looked up at them and fought hard to hide the grin that was threatening to escape.

Kai just glared. Henjo leaned forward, banged his forehead on the table, and sighed. Dirk closed his eyes.

“Sounds like Yoz,” said the newcomer, and got a tattooed finger flipped at him for his trouble.

“Gentlemen,” asked Moira, rapping her knuckles on the table for attention, “have any of you ever heard of the Illuminati?”

And Jason began to laugh.

~*~

There are many Universes.

Each one is individual and each one is different. But there is one force that drives them all, and one unifying force that ties them all together.

Light.

And life.

For life struggles to make itself known, fights to organise itself from chaos even in the depths of the black oceans and the cold emptiness of space; life is everywhere, and wherever there is life there is light. For there are more types of light than that which our poor excuse for eyes can see, and it is all created by the joyful vibrations of life. Everything lives; stars and rocks and trees and space dust, creatures and tiny things with no name from the borders of one Universe to another. And death is just another part of that cycle of life and light that vibrates through the Universes, and is no more evil than the passing of time itself.

But there is another force, just as determined, just as implacable.

It is Darkness. It is cold stasis. It is Absolute Zero, the point at which matter stops moving and effectively ceases to exist.

And it has an awareness all its own. And that awareness loathes Light, loathes life, and wishes to smother every Universe until they are so many frozen shells, dark and silent where once they hummed with life. For the vibration of Life makes it aware of its own emptiness, and it wishes for nothing more than to return to the dark oblivion of which is it made up.

Being aware, it has avatars in every Universe, on every world, even drifting through the silent spaces between the worlds and the even more mysterious gaps outside reality itself. They seek to kill the light wherever they find it, but no clean and natural death this. They bring obliteration. They bring the End.

On the Earth, in this time and this place, they are called the Illuminati. And they seek our total, utter destruction. They seek to wipe us from the remembrance of the Universe, destroy our place in the tapestry of Time, and ensure that even our memory is erased. Completely.

But the dark forces that move across the surface of the little blue green planet have been identified, and many of the sentient beings that crawl and fly and swim across her surface have noticed them. And in time the disparate species banded together, and even gave themselves a name; they became the watchers, the custodians, and the guardians of life and light here on Earth and across her associated psychic realms.

They chose a rose and a cross for their emblem, and for over a thousand years their society - which has its roots much, much further back than even they know - has been known as the Rosicrucians.

As in all conflicts the balance of power shifts. Sometimes one side has the upper hand and sometimes the other; each time both struggle to destroy the other, and then? Then there is war.

And many will fall to the powers of the dark before the light can win - if it can win.

For there are empty shells of Universes out there, silent bubbles of nothingness where once there was the vibration of light and life and love and death. They hang in the space between realities, and act as a warning.

Fight. Or die.

~*~

There was silence in the conference room for a few minutes when Moira stopped speaking. She looked across at Yoz, who nodded; she appeared to be satisfied with the explanation, and didn’t add anything to her friends words. Jason fidgeted for a second before turning to the three men at the other end of the table.

“You don’t know any of this?”

Kai shrugged. “Some,” he said.

“Kai’s been Outside with me,” added Yoz, “and Dirk still has some of the demon’s memories, so he should have at least an idea. I kind of figured they’d have told Henjo about it. It’s specifics they don’t know.”

“Like why my girlfriend got killed,” growled Kai. “That’s pretty fucking high on my list.”

Yoz looked away and lit a cigarette. Jason growled at her, and she just grinned around the brown filter at him; he snapped his fingers, and the glowing end exploded with a pop and a shower of sparks, sending Yoz rocking back on her chair with a yelp. She twisted and leaped from her chair, spitting out the shredded remains of the cig and cursing. Jason grinned, and Moira tutted; Kai stared at the other man, wide eyed.

“You use magic too?”

Yoz was swearing as she beat glowing coals out of her jacket, and Jason snickered before turning to answer.

“I’m actually an experimental alchemist, but I’ve learned a few tricks along the way - like hyper-oxidation.”

“Hyper-what?”

“Means it burns faster. You bastard, Hammond.”

Moira shook her head, tapping on the table for their attention once more. “Gentlemen. The only reason I can think of for the...murder,” and her voice stumbled over the word, “is that Yoz here has agreed to aid our cause. At times like this the ongoing differences between our organisations--”

“War,” said Jason softly.

“--has a tendency to polarise those who are, so to speak, outside of normal human society.” She rubbed her forehead and looked tired. “This is bigger than you might imagine. Whole species are bent on obliterating each other. The psychic realms are ablaze, demons and angels are wrangling over the fate of the planet. And each side seeks to cripple the other’s forces any way it can.”

“But what’s that got to do with me?” cried Kai, the anger and frustration beginning to bubble up through the exhaustion.

“It’s come to the attention of the Illuminati that you are,” and the woman shot her friend a glance, “an almost inexhaustible source of power for our Magus.”

“Your Magus?” snapped Yoz, her head shooting up from where she’d been resting it on her folded arms. Her expression was fierce, but Moira didn’t quail.

“So they think. There aren’t many of you, Yoz, and you’re valuable commodities; you could tip the balance of the war, and they know that as well as we do. And you did a very good job of hiding Mr. Hansen--”

“Kai,” he mumbled, giving her a rather wan smile. She nodded.

“--from them, but we think the demon that was carried in Mr. Schlächter may have tipped them off.”

“So it’s my fault,” Dirk replied hollowly, his expression sliding to one more lost and bereft than either of his friends had ever seen. The librarian shook her head, her eyes compassionate.

“No, it isn’t. These things happen, I think you’ll find. But the murder was planned to remove the two strongest individuals from Yolanda’s - and our - reach. They also know that if her friends are placed in danger, Yolanda here will tend to drop everything to try and save them.”

“It’s a character flaw, I know,” snorted Yoz.

“You’re right, it is,” agreed Jason. “There’s more at stake here than a couple of poxy rockstars.”

Kai decided he didn’t like this Englishman. “You don’t think we can help, then?”

Jason cocked an eyebrow, eyeing Kai sternly with his pale blue gaze. “No, as a matter of fact I don’t. I think it’s been a colossal waste of time and resources--”

“Jay--” Moira and Yoz said at the same time, one resigned sigh and one angry growl; Yoz got to her feet, leaning in with her knuckles white on the table top to glare at the blond man, baring her teeth.

“With this lot at my back I can do things you can’t imagine. If they’d been taken by the other side we might well have been screwed - and I’ve had enough of this. I need a smoke, a beer and eight hour’s kip, in that fucking order. Moi?”

The librarian nodded, and gestured toward the door; the three rose and followed their Mage, who’d stalked out of the room already. Dirk, trailing behind the other two, saw Jason touch Moira’s hand as she passed, bringing it briefly to his lips; she smiled down at him, and touched his hair before beckoning to Dirk.

“You two are together?” he asked her quietly as they followed the others. Moira sighed and nodded.

“He’s not a bad man,” she said. “He just gets a bit...focused, sometimes.”

Dirk chuckled, and to his surprise Moira slid her arm thorough his. “Don’t feel bad about the demon. I’ve seen what they can do, and if one picked you to possess...well, there really isn’t anything you can do about it. It’s not your fault.”

“But Hanne--”

“Is gone,” and the tones were crisp now as they caught the other three up. “And we have to think about the living now, not the dead.”

She left them in another arching hallway, asking them to wait while she found out which rooms they’d been allocated; apparently most of the Houses were full, operatives being called in from their researches to help defend the Order against the attacks which were becoming more frequent and more savage. It couldn’t be long, she said in an aside to Yoz, before the outside world got wind that something was going on; already the internet was abuzz with rumour and speculation.

She sighed and rushed off, leaving the four of them to wait in the darkly panelled hall, staring at the ancient oil paintings of past Masters of the Order and pacing the dusty rugs. Yoz hopped onto a long oak table against one wall and lit a cigarette, watching the three of them with eyes bird bright. Kai joined her.

“Hanne was murdered because of you.”

Yoz shrugged.

“I guess.”

There was a silence.

“You bitch,” he snarled, but the Mage held up a hand to forestall the tirade that was coming.

“Kai, I warned you about this. Why do you think I wanted to hide you? You simply don’t have the defences against the sort of powers that are ranged against us right now. Look, even if I hadn’t been forced to choose sides by some,” and she gave a snort-hiss of annoyance, “acquaintances of mine, I would have had to declare for this bunch. The alternative is pretty dreadful. Remember the darkness, Kai?”

He glared at her for another second, then dropped his head and nodded. He remembered it all too well; the last time Yoz had been with them she’d taken him on one of her trips Outside time and space, and he’d watched the terrible darkness destroy the suffering soul of a suicide. It had not been a pleasant experience for any of them, and he’d been traumatised by it to the point he’d almost been taken by the demon when it attacked them.

“That’s what we’re up against.” She took his arm, including the other two in her words as they approached the pair, curious, “the darkness doesn’t care about anyone or anything. It’ll roll over this reality and it’ll be like it never existed. Everything will be gone. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

Dirk cocked his head. “You are damned anyway.”

“It’s a figure of speech, idiot.”

“What do you mean, damned?” asked Henjo, looking between the three of them and wondering what the hell he hadn’t been told about this time. Yoz ground her teeth, then turned to him with a sigh.

“I was very young and very stupid and I sold my soul to the rulers of Hell for, well, power. I’ve been trying to cheat them of it ever since, so when I end up down there - and I expect I will, eventually - they’re going to be awfully pleased to see me.”

“And you’re willing to risk that happening,” said Henjo, his voice hushed with awe, “to help these people?”

“And you lot,” she said with a nod.

“Wow,” replied Henjo, and wordlessly subsided to think about what she’d said. Yoz shrugged, and began to study the toe of her boot; there seemed little else to say, and so they waited in silence for the librarian’s return in the quiet peace of the ancient house.

~*~

It turned out that there were two rooms left in the entire house, in the Journeyman’s quarters; when asked who wanted to double up Kai immediately grabbed Henjo’s arm, muttering that he didn’t want to share with Yoz under any circumstances. The Magus just hooded her eyes and shrugged, cocking her head at Dirk and raising an eyebrow.

“Whatever,” he said, but it was radiating from his mind that he was hurt that Kai hadn’t chosen him.

Moira, mind now on her other duties, nodded. “Good. Someone will bring your bags up from the van, and if you need to know anything just grab someone and ask. Feel free to wander around but if you get told not to go somewhere it’s for your own protection. Yoz.”

“Me?”

“You. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been winding anyone up by sticking your nose where it isn’t needed.”

“Not me. Wake me up in a week, would you?”

Moira snorted, shaking her hair and grinning at her friend. “Whatever, as you might say. If you need me either ask someone to get me or go to the library. Dinner’s at seven in the main common room, but apart from that - make yourselves at home. OK?”

And with that she handed them four keys and hurried away, leaving them standing on the landing and staring at each other. Yoz grinned and thumped Dirk on the shoulder.

“Race you to the bathroom,” she grinned, ignoring Kai totally. He snorted and stormed into the room next door, dragging Henjo with him; Dirk stared after him for a second, then sighed and followed the Mage into the room, wondering what was going to happen now.

~*~

Yoz was already in the en suite bathroom by the time Dirk made his way in. She’d dumped her clothes on the floor, a trail starting with her jacket at the door and ending with--

Dirk picked up a piece of defiantly feminine underwear and raised his eyebrows at it. Ok so it was black - but he’d never pegged Yoz as a lacey sort of a person. A chuckle floated out from the bathroom, and - still a trifle nervous as to what he might see - Dirk poked his head rather cautiously round the door.

The bathroom was a good size, corner tub, shower stall on the other side, all the other regular accoutrements of your normal average bathroom present as well. It was tastefully decorated in soft blues and greens, but what drew his eye wasn’t the colour scheme, but the naked woman perched on the side of the bath reading the label on a bottle of some bluish-purple liquid in an elegant glass bottle.

“Lavender,” she said at last, and shrugged. “Hell with it,” and poured a good dollop of the peculiar stuff into the rushing water. She looked up and winked at Dirk, still frozen in the doorway.

“What?”

“Er,” he said, feeling that he really ought to move away but for some reason unable to shift his feet.

“And there’s nothing wrong with my knickers.”

“Um,” he replied.

She snorted and turned away, lazily swirling her hand through the bath to test the temperature of the water. He eyed her, taking the opportunity to check out the tattoos that covered her whole body; and it looked as though they were, indeed, everywhere. The amount of pain involved in such a total covering boggled his mind, and another soft snort from the object of his scrutiny indicated that she was aware of his regard. Turning the taps off with a flourish she rose, grinning at him.

“Tub’s big enough for two. You want to join me?”

Dirk fled, followed by the ghost of Yoz’ laughter as she lowered herself into the steaming water, intent on the first good soak she’d been able to indulge herself in for weeks.

He sat on the end of the bed, put his head in his hands, and felt miserable.

~*~

Kai paced the room next door, Henjo sitting cross legged on the bed and watching him. He’d investigated every nook and cranny, opening drawers, flipping through the piles of towels on the shelf, mooching around the bathroom and reading the labels on the toiletries. He still hadn’t said anything but his face showed he was brewing something, so Henjo just waited. He’d explode soon enough, and then he’d be here for him.

He just had to be patient.

He went to the window and stood looking out over the forest, drumming his fingers on the sill and glaring at the trees as though they had offended him personally. The sunshine gleamed from his hair, giving it fiery highlights of gold; he narrowed his eyes and swore between his teeth, swinging around to stare at Henjo and folding his arms. He didn’t move, holding himself tight and dredging up every obscenity he could think of in as many languages as he could remember.

Henjo wore a patient expression and waited for him to finish.

“Better?” he said, when his friend had run out of words. Kai glared at him for a moment longer, then sagged back against the wall.

“No,” he replied, making his way over to the bed and dropping onto it. He flopped to his back, staring at the ceiling and biting his lower lip, creasing his forehead in a frown.

“Talk to me, Kai,” said Henjo, leaning forward to look straight down into his friend’s face.

“What’s to say? My girlfriend’s dead. The police think I did it. The record company seems to think I did it. We’re on the run from the police and whoever did do it. I have no idea what’s going on and it turns out we’re part of a global conspiracy, magical war, whatever and Hen, my girlfriend is _dead!_ ”

He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed them with his fists, a childlike gesture that about broke Henjo’s heart; and when he began to sob, he couldn’t just sit there and listen to it.

Rolling himself down on the bed to lie next to him he took Kai in his arms and hugged him tight, smoothing his hair and letting him weep. Kai clung to him, and cried as though his heart was broken - which, thought Henjo sadly as he rocked him, it probably was.

~*~

Yoz emerged from the bathroom after what - in Dirk’s opinion - had been a ridiculously long time. He’d been sitting there on the bed, listening to the splashing and the groaning and the singing, the swish of water and the satisfied little noises. Not to mention the occasional whiffs of scented steam that had drifted through the door from time to time, suggesting all kinds of disturbing images to his unsettled mind; he still wasn’t sure how he felt about Yoz, but he was pretty sure that she wouldn’t appreciate his libido making her dance the seven veils through the bathroom--

“Damn, but that feels good,” she said, plonking herself on the bed behind him and roughly towelling her hair.

He kept his head down, noticing without meaning to that first, she was still stark naked and second, whatever the stuff in the bath had been it didn’t half make her smell good.

He shifted, trying to think of something - anything - that might make his treacherous cock stop its stirring in his jeans.

Yoz gave an evil little chuckle.

“Completely normal reaction, mate. Don’t worry about it.”

Dirk grumbled, and she laughed at him. “Look, I’ve been inside your head, remember? I know you. And I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m not going to make a move on you - I’m not trying to get a rise out of you, if you’ll pardon the pun. There’s power in sex, yes, and I could certainly do with a recharge but I’m no rapist. Right now all I want is a couple of day’s sleep.”

Dirk turned to look at her, his expression somewhat bitter. “You know me, do you? Well, don’t forget I know you too. The - demon,” and he choked on the word, pain flashing across his face as he remembered it, “told me a lot about you, too.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re not trying to kill me. I’m impressed.”

He shook his head, going back to staring at the floor between his boots. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.”

“You’re a good man, Dirk--”

“Flattery isn’t going to work either.”

“--so at least I know you’ll wake me up before you decide to do anything. That said,” and she flipped back the covers, wriggling between the crisp white sheets and pulling the quilt up around her chin, “I’m going to get some kip. See you around.”

And with that she shut her eyes, and as far as he could see fell immediately asleep. Dirk stared at her for a moment, then shook his head; the demon had given him a long list of her betrayals, showed him what had happened to people who’d trusted the Mage in the past; it hadn’t made pleasant viewing, and some part of Dirk was just waiting to see how she’d sell them out.

And yet, and yet.

She’d put herself at risk for them in the past. And it certainly appeared that she was looking out for them at the moment.

He sighed, and rose to his feet. Time for a shower, and then he’d see what the other two were up to. One thing was for sure, he’d be keeping a very close eye on their little Mage, and if she tried anything - well, she might find herself done unto before she could do unto them.

With a grim nod and haunted eyes, Dirk headed for the bathroom.

~*~

Moira found the three men clustered at the end of one of the long tables in the refectory, and at Henjo’s wave took a seat next to them.

“No Yoz?”

“Sleeping,” snorted Dirk.

“Ah. Well, from what I can tell she hasn’t slept for close to two weeks, so she’ll need to recharge her batteries.”

“Two weeks?” said Henjo, startled. “That’s impossible.”

Dirk shrugged. “With Yoz I would suggest you rethink your use of the word ‘impossible’,” he said with a snort.

The librarian laughed. “Very true! So, are the rooms OK?”

Henjo nodded. “But what does it mean,” he asked, pushing his food around the plate with his fork, “’Journeyman’s’ quarters?”

Moira chewed a bite of her dinner and thought for a moment. “It’s a measure of rank within the Order. Apprentice, Journeyman, Master. There’s more to it than that, of course; levels within levels, different duties with their accompanying rank and favours.”

“Sounds complicated,” he said with a wan smile, and she shrugged.

“I’m sure your job would be incomprehensible to me.”

Kai pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the table, fixing the woman with an unreadable gaze. “Have you known Yoz long?”

“A few years.”

“Is she as dangerous as she makes out?”

Moira blinked at him, then laid her fork down. “Dangerous? I don’t know how you measure danger. But the first time I met her she was sealing up a doorway to Hell that one of our operatives had opened by accident - and she was holding back an army of demons all by herself.”

“I saw that,” added Dirk abruptly, and Moira cocked her head at him.

“The demon, of course. It would have shown you that.”

“She was hurt. Badly.”

“Yes,” agreed Moira with a grave nod, “and I got to know her when she was at the Guildford House, recovering. She helped me sort out the operative’s papers that we’d managed to rescue.”

“So she isn’t invulnerable,” murmured Kai, his eyes distant and his brow furrowed. Moira frowned at him, pushing her plate away from her.

“I don’t know what gave you that idea. Look, she might pretend that she’s a force of nature - and there are times that isn’t too far from the truth - but she’s still human. She hurts the same way we all do. She’d like to pretend she’s an emotionless bastard but she isn’t - and before you throw all the stories of betrayal in my face, I’ve heard them. And if you were top of Satan’s shit list you’d be prepared to do almost anything to stay out of Hell, wouldn’t you? Now if you’ll excuse me,” and she rose, gathering plate and cutlery with more force than was, strictly speaking, necessary, “I have duties to attend to. But I will say this,” and she turned back to them, eyes fierce as she glared at Kai, “she put herself in a great deal of personal danger to pull you three out of that situation the Illuminati had put you in. And there aren’t many people she’d do that for. So remember that before you sneer at her.”

With that, the librarian left, shoulders stiff with tension and back held ramrod straight. Henjo sighed, and patted Kai’s arm absently.

“Think before speaking, OK?”

“You would think,” added Dirk with a wry smile as Kai put his head in his hands and groaned, “that he would have figured that out by now, wouldn’t you?”

 _~TBC~_


	3. The Heart Of The Unicorn

_****_

The Heart Of The Unicorn

 

It took two days for Yoz to wake up.

Dirk came back in, intent on getting changed before meeting Kai and Henjo for dinner and totally missed the fact that she was awake, pottering around the room until a soft chuckle from the window caught his attention. He startled, looking up at her; she was perched on the sill by the open window, legs drawn up under her, enjoying the light spring breeze coming through it and watching the forest. She looked better, more aware than she had done, and smiled when she caught his eye.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

He wandered across to her and looked out at the view. “Not so bad. Kai’s going nuts because nobody will tell him anything and he doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen next. Henjo’s spending his time wandering around the halls trying to charm every woman he meets and I,” he shrugged, turning his face away from her, “I’ve been doing a bit of reading down in the library.”

“Research, eh?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for a while, staring out across the vista of trees and clouds, watching a band of rain advance across the mountains in a line of purple-blue, angry looking cloud. Yoz sighed, and when she spoke her voice was subdued.

“I’ve been thinking....”

“About?”

“People. This war, because don’t doubt it - we are at war. Looking at this place makes me think...sometimes I don’t think we need the Illuminati. As a species we’re pretty good at destroying stuff all by ourselves.”

Dirk shrugged. “It’s the way we are.”

“You’re right. And the way we are is wrong - so why am I expending all this energy and pain on the side of a species I don’t even like much?”

He shrugged, and waited to see if she would speak again, but the mismatched eyes just followed the trails of rain where they beat down into the trees, cloaking the whole vista in a sodden, dripping silence. He tried to think of something to say, anything, as long as it would break the brooding silence.

“You’ve been to Hell, haven’t you,” he said, surprising himself. It wasn’t a question, and he couldn’t think of anything more specific to ask her; he just needed her to confirm what the demon had told him the year before. It had told him a lot of things, and he was more grateful than he could ever say that Yoz had removed the worst memories - but what was left still came back to haunt him, sometimes.

“And back. Been to Heaven too, and of them both? Give me oblivion every fucking time.”

He blinked at her, surprised. “What?”

“Heaven. The tyranny of the angels, mate. Satan wants your soul because he values it; God wants slaves, no more no less. Sheep to follow. We can’t even get our fucking deities and our afterlife right....”

She sighed, a sad noise, and held out a hand to him with the palm open in invitation; he took it, and the warm strength of her fingers closed over it. She pulled it into her lap and just sat there, still staring out across the forest, watching it rain. Dirk stepped in, his chest touching her shoulder, and waited; she didn’t give the impression that she’d finished speaking, and he wondered what horrible revelation she was going to spill next.

A hammering on the door made him jump.

“Are you coming to dinner or what?” Kai’s voice, cheerful and loud.

Dirk snorted, and Yoz loosened her grip on his hand. “Go on. Go to dinner with them. I’ll be OK.”

“Nah - I’ll get something later,” he said to her before turning and calling over his shoulder, “Yoz is awake - I’ll catch you guys later, OK?”

The reply was no more than an unhappy grumble, which made Yoz give the empty air a wry smile. “Kai still pissed off at me, yeah?”

“A little, I think. Your friend Moira told him off about it, though - and so did Jason.”

That made her look. “Jason did?”

“Yes. He said that if Kai wasn’t so,” and Dirk smiled wryly, remembering the rather heated conversation over dinner the night before, “bloody obvious in everything he did the Illuminati wouldn’t have homed in on him the way they did. He said blaming you was stupid.”

“Well, that was nice of him.”

“He also said we were stupid to trust you, but we knew that already.”

Yoz sighed again, and Dirk could have bitten his tongue out. The normal Yoz - bouncy, noisy, irreverant, bossy Yoz - would have laughed the comment off, but now she just nibbled on her lip and stared at the clouds. Lowering and dark they trailed mist across the landscape, purple fingers of drizzle combing through the fresh green of the new leaves.

“I dunno, Dirk. I don’t doubt myself very often but right now...yeah. Why am I doing this? Why the fuck should I be putting myself out for people who, at best, distrust me? And even if I do, fuck, I can’t guarantee that I’m not going to get every last man jack of you killed. You could all die - because of me - and the Illuminati still win. Maybe I should just find myself a nice little bolthole to lurk in until this is all over. Kiss the winner’s ass and carry on as before.”

“But if they win there will be no asses to kiss, right?”

“Oh, there will be. For a while. Their representatives are human, so they’ll want to make the most of victory for a while. Then the dark will come and swallow them all...” her voice tailed off, and she leaned back against the windowframe with a sorrowful little noise in the back of her throat. Dirk moved a little closer, and lifted his free hand to touch her cheek.

“Yoz? What is it? What’s changed you so much?”

She shrugged, but leaned her cheek against his hand for a moment. “I’m just tired, Dirk. And I’ve been dreamwalking, which always makes me a bit thoughtful - ah, it’s a way of gathering,” and she shrugged, avoiding his questioning expression, “general impressions. Touching minds through dreams. Useful tool.”

“But not this time.”

“We’re such a tiny island of light, Dirk. So much darkness, all around,” and she closed her eyes, voice becoming soft with regret and sadness, “so very much. And only tiny, tiny flickers of light against it - and inbetween are all the normal people who’d burn us all at the stake as soon as look at us. One word from the Illuminati, one tiny suggestion that we’re going to rip their comfortable ignorance away and they’d turn on us in a heartbeat. And I guess,” she opened her eyes, blue and brown as dull as he’d ever seen them, “I’m just tired. Very tired.”

He stroked the side of her face again and she closed her eyes, taking comfort from the contact. “And...well. Kai’s girlfriend was eighteen. Eighteen, Dirk. Her life was just beginning. And now she’s dead and Kai blames me and I don’t blame him one bit, not really.”

“You came to him because of me,” he said, his own throat closing on the pain of the words.

“Yeah. But my decision not to just kill you - how many lives has it cost already? How many more is it going to cost?”

He couldn’t think of anything to say. Discussing one’s own murder in such casual terms was disturbing, at best.

She shook her head. “This war has me nervous, Dirk. And I’m suddenly second guessing myself, wondering if I’m right or wrong and--”

“--and you shouldn’t be,” he said firmly, taking her face in both his hands and turning her to look at him. “It’s natural to feel scared. You’ve got a lot on your shoulders.”

“Scared?”

“That’s what it is, isn’t it? Fear?”

She tried to turn away from him, then gave in and sagged in his grip. “Yeah. For once, yeah. I’ll admit it. I’m scared.” She met his eye, a brief flash of anger showing itself. “Happy now?”

He smiled at her, gently, then leaned forward and kissed her, just a soft meeting of lips then away. “Yes. Because until you admit you’re scared of something you can’t overcome it. And you _will_ overcome it. That I don’t doubt.”

She shook her head and turned again, biting her lip. Stroking the side of her face he got her to turn back, sliding his arms around her and pulling her into his body; she resisted him, her small frame stiff in his arms for a moment, then gave in and let herself be held. He wrapped her in his arms, tucked her head under his chin and they just stayed there for a while, for once she allowing herself the luxury of being comforted by another.

Eventually she wriggled, and he slackened his arms; she sat up on the windowsill and turned to face him, head cocked to one side.

“Well, now what? Do you go and tell the others you’ve seen your unstoppable Magus have a bit of a girly moment?”

Her tone was light, but the words were bitter. Dirk shook his head, and reached for her again; she swayed back away from him, but he caught her. “Look out there,” he said, and she turned in his arms to see what he was talking about.

The rain clouds had swept on down the valley, and the roiling grey-purple of the front was now lined with gold along the back edge, tinges of salmon pink and palest peach highlighting the back of the clouds. The sky was ablaze with the colour of the setting sun, the rain moving away from them and leaving the fresh glory of the wet spring forest to bask in the last of the evening sunshine.

“The darkness passes,” he said quietly, “and lets the light through. The pain will pass too. And the light will come back, you’ll see.”

And he leaned forward and kissed her.

“What,” she asked him, a serious expression in the mismatched eyes, “was that for?”

He slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her closer to the edge of the sill, and kissed her again. “You look like you need cheering up,” he said, smiling against her lips. She leaned back and frowned at him.

“Dirk, I’m not sure this is a good time--”

“The best time, surely.”

“I mean,” she continued, putting both hands on his chest to stall his forward movement, “you’re feeling vulnerable. So am I. Are you sure--”

He pushed forward and kissed her, very seriously indeed; he flicked his tongue along her lower lip until she groaned, and let him in. She allowed him to caress her back, explore the inside of her mouth, nuzzle her face; reluctantly, her hands crept up his back until she was holding him close, her legs wrapping around his waist to stabilise her on the ledge. He groaned into her mouth, rubbing the hard evidence of his arousal against her jean-clad crotch; she broke the kiss and buried her face in his neck.

“I can’t make you any promises,” she said into his skin, nipping him gently. “Whatever we do here stays here. You understand?”

In answer he slid his hands under her, lifted her from the windowsill and carried her to the bed, laying her down and stretching out on top of her, kissing her again. His weight on his elbows he nuzzled her face and neck, running his fingers through her hair, slowly rubbing the length of his body against hers.

“Dirk,” she murmured between kisses.

“Mmm?”

“Shut the window, there’s a good lad,” she whispered, “there’s a hell of a draught.”

He stared at her for a moment, then gave a sharp laugh and rose to do as she asked. When he turned back, she was propped up on her elbows, watching him; he stripped out of the shirt he was wearing and approached her, bare chested. She gave a soft whistle, a wry half smile on her face.

“Nice,” she said.

“I try,” he replied with a wink, taking her hand and drawing her to sit on the edge of the bed. Stepping forward to stand between her legs she pressed her face to his stomach, nuzzling and nipping, running her hands across the small of his back, kneading the muscles. He stroked her hair, sighing at the feel of it; as soon as he felt her hands on the button of his jeans he stilled them, going to his own knees and staring into her eyes.

“Let me,” he said, taking the hem of the vest shirt she was wearing and drawing it over her head. She let him, still with that odd little smile on her face, lifting her backside to let him skim her jeans off. Naked, she leaned back on her arms and watched him, his blue eyes dark as he took in her form, gaze travelling up and down her body.

Still watching her eyes he undid his jeans, kicked off his shoes, rolled the clinging denim from him and tossed it aside. Head cocked to one side she watched him approach, shifting back on the bed as he climbed on, keeping a gap between the warmth of their bodies, odd eyes still unsure.

He cupped her cheek, stroked his thumb under her eye.

“Relax.”

Something in her wanted to snort at him, flip back with a derisive comment, but she couldn’t. Not now, not feeling like this; insecurity, uncertainty were alien to her, and the way they pressed against her had taken her breath away.

Much as he did a moment later, pulling her in for a kiss, touching their bodies together, the warmth of him beginning to chase the chill from her soul. Wrapped in his arms she began to relax, murmuring her pleasure into his mouth, each muscle beginning to slacken and roll against him. He bent his mouth to her throat, kissing and nibbling, licking the sting from the tiny nips while she buried her hands in his hair and sighed for the pleasure of it.

They stayed that way for a while, just relishing the feel of their nakedness rubbing together, skin to skin, friction bringing delicious heat to the surface. Exploring each other they kissed, twining around each other to kiss again, mouths and hands roaming skin and teasing nerve endings.

He lapped his way along the line of her throat, following a procession of tiny, eye like designs down between her breasts then taking a moment to nuzzle at the soft, warm globes. She sighed, falling back and closing her eyes; smiling, he continued to stroke the sides of her breasts, licking warm damp trails across the skin but avoiding the nipples that hardened in the cool air of the room, begging for his attention. One hand stroked his back, lifted to rub at his neck, tangle in his hair; the other fisted the bedsheets, muscles tight with anticipation, but she refrained from trying to guide his head to where she desperately wanted his mouth to be. Instead, she just petted him, and let him explore at his own pace.

By the time he gave in and sucked one stiffened bud into his mouth she was gasping, arching her back with a cry while he murmured around her flesh, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and little nips, teasing with the very tip and tapping, then suckling until she thought she might come just from that alone.

He drew back, licking his lips. She lay still, panting and trembling, keeping her eyes closed; he brushed his palm against her cheek and she turned into the contact with a moan. He traced the outline of her lips with a finger, chuckling low in his chest when she caught it between her teeth, sucking and licking, drawing it in and teasing it between the softness of her lips.

Pulling his finger away he leaned in to kiss her again, taking his time to explore her mouth thoroughly. She groaned, pushing herself against him; breathing each other’s air they nuzzled and licked, nipped and teased and caressed. And when his fingers trailed along the centre of her wet heat she bucked up with a sharp cry, eyes flying open and staring straight into his heavy-lidded gaze.

“I want you,” he murmured, leaning in to lick across her lower lip. She smiled under the caress, curling one leg over his hip as he settled himself between her thighs.

“So take me,” she replied, and with a sigh he carefully slipped inside.

She groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist as he hissed, pausing once he was fully sheathed in her. Their movement began slowly, he taking the time to kiss her, stroke her flanks; his hair fell down around her face, and she pushed it back with a smile that became a gasp.

Gathering her in his arms he buried his face in her neck, groaning into the musk of her patterned skin, arching his back to fill her; she clutched him just as tight, both of them relishing the closeness of the contact, the intimacy of their joining. Long, slow strokes teased her, had her gasping and arching into him. Closing her eyes, she let the heat and the power build; the fires built with their passion would create a great wave of released energy at their climax, energy she could use to fill reserves depleted with use and sadness.

Dirk kissed her again, desperate, deep; he buried one hand in her hair and pulled her head back, biting at the pulse that beat thick and strong in her exposed throat. She pressed his body into hers, clutching at the small of his back and his backside, grinding herself into him as the pace of his thrusts increased.

Higher they climbed, building the sparkles of light that burned in their minds into a great glowing mass of tension, tension they could both feel coiling in the centre of their bodies needing just one more touch, one more thrust, one more kiss, one more slide of hot, sweat slick skin--

He cried out, throwing his head back as his hips propelled against her, the demands of his body overwhelming his mind; thoughtless, they slammed against each other, howling their way to completion in a great burst of light and heat that tore through their bodies, illuminating their souls from the core of their desire. Clutching, gasping, he kept up the pace, still riding that wave even as she screamed her way to another orgasm, filling herself with the release of the tension, the fear, the overwhelming grief and sorrow that they found themselves surrounded by.

Collapsing, they rolled together into a whimpering, spent heap, shuddering with the forces expended; she nuzzled under his chin, flicking her tongue to collect the droplets of sweat that had collected along his throat. Sighing, stretching, they rubbed their bodies together like sleepy cats, alive in the smell and the feel of their lovemaking. They pulled the blankets over themselves, and with a sussuration of quiet murmurs rolled down the darkening slope of consciousness into a deep, heavy sleep.

~*~

He awoke once in the night, finding the Mage still curled against his side, fast asleep. It wasn’t hard to see what had woken him; a storm had rolled over the mountains and was doing its worst outside, rattling the windows with the sharp cracks of thunder, tearing the darkness apart with bright purple-blue forks of lightning. Yoz stirred, her brow creasing, whimpering a little as the thunder roared again; he pulled her close, feeling her burrow into the warm expanse of his chest, fingers curling to clutch at him.

He stroked her hair, made wordless noises of comfort; in the next blinding flash he saw her eyes were open, watching his face. Dipping in to kiss her he was surprised by the vehemence of the response; she wrapped herself around him, trembling, almost biting at his lips in her frenzy. He replied in kind, pulling her hips to him, grinding against her.

And while the storm bellowed across the mountains outside they made love again, she riding him, arching her back and gasping with the passion of it, his hands gathering her breasts, thumbs caressing her nipples and making her cry out.

Together they battled the darkness with their joining, driving it back with their light and heat, screaming their way to completion and collapsing together, panting, spent enough that the fury of the storm could disturb them no further. Rolled together and safe in each other’s arms they slept, drifting away from the thoughts of the terror and destruction that awaited them in the waking world.

~*~

The next time he opened his eyes it was still dark, but the storm had apparently blown itself out. A gentle swish, and the room was filled with the soft grey light of false dawn; Yoz had pushed back the drapes and stood in front of the window, hipshot and naked, tapping one of his cigarettes from the pack and lighting it with a quiet snap of her fingers.

Curling onto his side he pillowed his head on his arm, watching her as she leaned on the sill and cracked open the window, lifting her face to sniff at the fresh morning air. The light was growing stronger, and as it brightened he found his eye travelling over her body, tracing the lines and swirls of her tattoos across the planes of her skin. The colours began to come to life as the light warmed with the approaching sunrise, and he began to appreciate that not all the ink was black and blue; patches of green and yellow almost glowed, and highlights of silvery white gave the appearance of depth, shading the forms as they flowed--

It wasn’t just the light.

His eyes widened as he watched. The lines and streaks of designs were moving across her skin, curling and swaying lazily like kelp in a strong current; tiny forms - fish, birds and more bizarre creatures - darted here and there amongst the shifting landscape of alchemical designs and magical symbols. A snake that coiled its length around her waist shifted its coils, and briefly rubbed its head against the other serpent that slithered along her spine before settling back into its accustomed place.

A golden tinge coloured the light, and she stretched one arm up to touch the window, smiling at the sunrise through her fingers. The movement allowed him a clear view of her whole flank and the exotic bestiary that danced and fluttered through the garden of her skin, all caressing the light where it slid across the covering of flesh.

He must have made a noise, because she turned to look at him, smiling through the dawn light that glowed across her skin.

“Mein Gott,” he said under his breath, and she laughed soundlessly at him, shaking her hair back from her face to give him a clearer look.

He’d always assumed that the ink stopped at her jawline, because it had so far looked as though her face was clear. But in the light of the morning after the storm he saw that wasn’t so; whether the ink could actually move that far or whether she normally hid them by some unknown trick he didn’t know, but her face was as marked as the rest of her body. Sweeps of black surrounded her eyes, eye designs as real as her own over her eyelids, chevrons and swirling protective symbols adorned her cheeks and the curve of her jaw; even her ears had thread-slender engravings on them, all stretching and twisting in the sunlight.

She leaned back against the sill and smoked, watching him for a reaction. He sat up and stared, eyes wide at the wonders of her flesh all gilded by the morning.

“Well?” she asked, her voice smooth and low. He sighed, swinging his legs out of the bed and rising, covering the short distance to the window with two strides, no hesitancy, dropping to his knees to examine her more closely.

“They’re alive,” he said, his tone even softer than hers, expression alight with incredulous amazement.

“Just like I am,” she chuckled, flicking the cigarette end out of the window. She took his hand and drew him to his feet, leading him back to the bed; pulling him down she kissed him, soft, gentle, exploring his lips again then rubbing her changed face against his neck.

Letting his eyes drift closed he relaxed into the sensation of her skin against his, listening to her murmuring something against him, words he didn’t understand, her breath tickling as she roamed across his body.

“Third time’s the charm,” she breathed into him, nibbling across his lower lip as she straddled him, welcoming him into her body once more with a sigh. He laughed at her, arching his head back when she wound her fingers into his hair, biting the skin of his throat, trailing the warmth of her breath across his chest. He looked down into her eyes, and lost himself in the hypnotic patterning he could see there; twists and curls beguiled the eye and all he could see was movement, pulling him and taking him to another place where there was no danger, no fear.

Lost in each other, they spiralled their way to completion together.

~*~

By the time they made their way down to breakfast Kai and Henjo had finished theirs and were lingering over coffee, chatting to Moira as the refectory emptied. Jason was sitting beside her, nose buried in a stack of papers, occasionally spooning what must have been cold oatmeal into his face as he read. Yoz and Dirk begged a plate out of the kitchen staff and joined them, Yoz shovelling her food in with indecent haste.

“Breathe, Yoz,” sighed Moira.

She grinned. Kai scowled at her.

“What have you two been up to?”

She waited until Dirk had a mouthful of food before smiling brightly at Kai.

“Fucking, why?”

Moira snorted as Henjo had to bang Dirk firmly on the back to help him over the choking fit Yoz’ words had sent him into.

“I do _not_ believe you just said that,” she sighed, eyeing her friend who carried on shovelling breakfast through the grin.

“I do,” said Jason from behind his papers.

Kai growled as Dirk coughed his airway clear, glaring through watery eyes at the Mage. She winked at him, slurping her tea noisily - drawing exasperated tutting noises from the librarian.

“Working your way through the band, are you?” Kai snapped, putting his coffee cup down with more force than he had to.

Dirk and Henjo exchanged glances, shaking their heads. Kai was clearly in the mood for a fight, and with the way Yoz was baiting him there was going to be one.

“Why, you jealous? Can’t keep ‘em all for yourself, y’know.”

Kai snorted and turned away, lip curled with disgust, and muttered under his breath in German.

“Sie sind eine dreckige Schlampe, die Scheiße ficken würde, wenn es Hahn war, der gestaltet worden ist!”

Yoz didn’t hesitate, just leaped straight over Dirk and went for Kai’s throat. Cups, plates and chairs went flying as the pair rolled on the floor, swearing and punching, kicking and biting at each other. Moira dived out of the way, but Jason simply retrieved bowl and papers and carried on reading, moving to a table out of range of the furious brawl. Dirk and Henjo stood back, waiting for the fight to begin to run out of energy before they tried to separate the two. From experience they knew that trying to pry Kai out of a fight before he wanted to be pried was asking for more trouble than it was worth.

Moira nudged Dirk with her elbow.

“You must be awfully good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this sparky before lunch.”

Henjo snorted with amusement, and Dirk sighed.

The two rolled and fought, one or the other occasionally letting out a yelp as a punch or kick found its mark, swearing furiously at each other the whole time. Yoz shot an elbow into Kai’s gut and leaped to her feet while he wheezed, dancing on the balls of her feet and daring him to get up. Her eyes were glittering bright, face flushed and teeth bared in a ferocious grin, barely marred by the split lip and swelling that was beginning to grow over her eye.

“Come on then, up you get. Fucking pussy, who do you--”

Kai launched himself, his shoulder catching her in the stomach and rolling her back over another table with a crash.

Jason moved a little further back, calmly flicking through the pages he’d brought with him, finishing his breakfast and putting the bowl aside.

The struggle continued unabated, Kai letting out a howl when Yoz bit him on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood, any retaliation blocked by the fact she was wearing her leather jacket. He shot out an elbow, catching her square in the left breast; she went down with a gasp and they went at it again, fury apparently as intense as when the fight had begun.

Jason, laying down his papers, wandered over to join the watchers. Moira was beginning to fret, nibbling on her lower lip and frowning. Jason smiled at her, and reached into a pocket, removing a small paper bag.

“Here,” he said, “this ought to distract them.”

With that, he threw a handful of grey powder over them. It seemed to have no effect, simply spreading in a silvery glitter over the combatants; he winked at Dirk and shouted a word none of them recognised, at which point the grey powder ignited in a whoosh of white flame.

“Flash powder,” he said with a smirk.

Kai and Yoz had rolled apart, both yelling and beating out the flames that were beginning to catch in their clothing.

“Needs work,” he added mildly.

The pair climbed to their feet, eyeing each other. Yoz cleared her throat, hawking a bloody lump of something vile to land on the floor at Kai’s feet. He growled, took a step forward; Henjo touched his arm, was shaken off with a snarl. Moira rolled her eyes.

“Yoz, Richard wants to see you in his office. If you’re quite finished, that is?”

She grinned.

“Not quite,” she said, and with a move so fast none of them could follow it grabbed Kai by the front of his shirt, lifting him and slamming him against the wall hard enough to drive the wind out of him. Giving him a shake she held him up, keeping his feet dangling off the floor with very little apparent effort.

“When I said I could kill you all,” she said, as calm as if she was suggesting a stroll in the sunshine, slamming him against the wall in time with her words, “I meant it, OK? Don’t _fuck_ with me, Hansen. Not when I’m on your side.”

She opened her hands, letting him drop to the floor with a crash, landing on his backside and wheezing for breath.

She turned to her friend with a smile.

“ _Now_ I’m finished,” she said, and straightening her jacket strolled out of the refectory, hands in her pockets, whistling.

Jason turned to Dirk, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re sleeping with her?”

He nodded, watching Henjo trying to get Kai to sit up from where he’d curled into a tight little ball around his pain.

“Rather you than me, pal,” he said with a grin, patting him consolingly on the shoulder before sweeping up his papers and walking out.

~*~

Richard was working through a stack of papers, and looked tired when Yoz joined him in his office. The guard outside was the same one she’d flattened when they arrived, and had given ground without protest. She’d snorted at him, and strolled in to the office as though she owned the place.

She dropped into the chair opposite the Head of House, and grinned at him.

He eyed her over the top of his glasses.

“Been playing, Ms. Bowsher?”

“Something like that. What’s up, Dick?”

He put his glasses aside, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

“Your attempts to needle me are pointless, and just make my job more difficult so let’s leave the schoolyard humour behind, shall we? I’ve just received a communication from one of our operatives in France - and I thought you ought to see it first, seeing as it pertains to you and your...friends.”

She folded her hands on his desk and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes.

“You’ve closed your mind. You know I can’t read you when you deliberately block me, Richard; why don’t you just think it out loud, and give it to me that way? Or are you worried about what else I might spy in that devious little mind of yours if you let me see this?”

He blinked at her, and a wry smile crept across his face.

“Perhaps,” he said, turning the screen of his laptop to face her, “you are not the only one who enjoys playing games, Magus. Watch.”

He hit return, and a video began playing in a new window. Shaky and somewhat blurred, it showed two men being rushed from a building, their hands cuffed behind them; the camera angle dropped, giving a shot of the lower half of the taller man, clad in tight leather trousers. Yoz whistled.

“Oh my goodness look at the legs on that....”

“Pay attention.”

She snickered and watched, her face freezing as the camera panned up and caught the agonised expression on the face of the taller man, a fraction before he was clubbed on the side of the head and bundled into an unmarked, dark coloured van. The smaller man with him received the same rough treatment, and a pair of black clad heavies - there was no other word for them - followed them in, the doors being slammed behind them.

Richard scrolled the video back, freezing it on the frame of the last, despairing look that the big man had shot over his shoulder; Yoz hissed between her teeth, made to rise. Richard stopped her with his next words.

“They are both to be killed - to draw you out, we think. But we don’t know where, although we have a good idea.”

“When was this shot?”

“This morning. So we have two days, absolute maximum, before the sentence of death is carried out.”

“Fuck. Fuck!”

“Quite so.”

“I have to find them.”

“And expose yourself - and ultimately us - to our enemies, and yours? Are these two men worth the risk?”

She shot him a filthy look. “Don’t fucking start that shit with me.”

“Your mouth is as foul as ever, Magus.”

“So?”

“You believe them to be worth the risk.”

“I _have_ to go and get them, Richard. End of story, end of broadcast. Don’t get in my fucking way.”

The older man inclined his head to her, graceful in his acceptance of the situation. “Then we shall assist in whatever way we can.”

Yoz flung herself back in the chair and bit her lip, swearing under her breath when she caught a swollen area that Kai had thumped earlier.

She wasn’t looking forward to telling him that his drummer and sometimes keyboardist were in the hands of the Illuminati, and under sentence of death. Yoz growled at no one in particular, then put her face in her hands and sighed.

“Fuck’s sake, Daniel...”

~*~

She found the three men in the medical unit, Kai getting his scratches and bruises treated. She leaned on the door, watching for a while; the nurse worked quickly and efficiently, ignoring the way Kai squeaked and wriggled when she did something painful. Henjo and Dirk were trying to smother grins, and the stout little woman muttered under her breath as she treated the squirming redhead.

“Men playing like boys - sit still! - and then whining like children afterwards,” grumbled the nurse, dabbing iodine on the cut above Kai’s eye, “and I would ask what the other person looks like but--”

“She’s not too bad,” said Dirk, spotting the Mage watching them.

She gave him a weak smile. The nurse swung around and snorted.

“Ah! I have heard of the temper of the lady Yoz.” She turned and eyed Kai, darting in to give the swelling over his eye a last dab, making him yelp. “There. You’re done. Now if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”

And with that she swept up her things and stalked out, Yoz cocking an eyebrow at her as she left.

Kai glared at her.

She cleared her throat.

“We have another problem...”

~*~

 

Moira was catalogueing some new papers on experimental alchemy - with Jason’s help - when she heard the shouting start. The pair looked at each other, Jason with a smile and Moira with alarm.

“Yoz,” they both said, and dropped the papers to hurry out and see what all the screaming was about.

Rounding a corner they spotted the source of the disturbance. Having emerged from the medical area - presumably because there was more room to fight in the small atrium outside it - Kai and Yolanda were screeching at each other, he often dropping into German when his anger overwhelmed his English. She, on the other hand, was resorting to rather less pleasant languages to curse him out in; Moira caught several phrases in Goblin, plus a few in the foul language of the demons.

Henjo had a firm grasp of Kai, and Dirk had his arms wrapped around Yoz’ waist. Between them, they were managing to prevent a repeat of the scene in the refectory; however, by Henjo’s increasingly desperate expression it wasn’t going to stay that way for long.

“You stupid BITCH! We should never have listened--”

“Listened? Listened?! You _don’t_ listen, Hansen!”

“You’re a fucking curse!”

“I told you to keep your fucking head down, didn’t I? You fucking moron--”

“First Hanne, now Dan!”

“Oh fuck you. Hear me? Fuck! You!”

“Do you remember,” asked Moira in a clear, carrying voice that managed to get the attention of both combatants, even though she was ostensibly talking to Jason, “that you asked me why we might need Yoz?”

He smothered a grin and answered her in the same calm, almost bored tone. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well, if she fights the Illuminati with half as much passion as she fights her friends she’s unstoppable. That’s why.”

There was silence for a moment, broken only by Kai’s harsh breathing.

Then he shook himself free of Henjo, and bared his teeth at Yoz. “Fine,” he snapped, stepping back.

She twisted from Dirk’s grasp and dusted her jacket down. “Fine,” she breathed, then glared at Kai. “This isn’t over,” she added, with a growl. He tilted his head on one side, narrowed his eyes.

“No shit,” he said.

~*~

“So where have we got to go?”

Yoz hurried toward the library after Moira with Dirk, Henjo and Kai in her wake. As ever, Kai was at her shoulder, chattering away in her ear. She growled.

“ _I’m_ going. You’re staying here.”

“But Yoz--!”

“But Yoz nothing. It’s too dangerous.”

“You can’t go alone,” worried Moira, and Yoz nodded.

“True. Richard’s offered me a couple of operatives - I think I’ll take him up on it.”

“So they can go but not me? Us,” Kai amended hastily as the Magus turned to eye him with a snort, which sentiment was echoed by Dirk and Henjo.

“They’re trained in this sort of crap,” she told him, automatically lowering her voice as they entered the library, “and they won’t get in my way.”

“I won’t get in your way!”

“Ha. Ah ha ha, ha.”

Dirk snickered, and Kai glared at him. The little group stopped by the central desk, Moira hurrying behind it and logging into the House mainframe. “Right. What do you need?”

Yoz began to tick things off on her fingers. “Guns. Ammunition. Grenades. Whatever the best stuff in the plastique market is right now. Detonators. Some nasty little surprises for our Illuminated friends, in short.”

“Guns?” whispered Dirk to Henjo, who shrugged.

“Guns,” repeated Yoz, grinning at Dirk like a wolf, “because most people - when they know I’m coming - expect a magical attack. So while they’re drawing their energies and preparing I can pull the trigger and kaboom, no more problem. My energy stays nice and intact and they turn into a greasy splatter on the wall.”

“But-”

“When you’re trained in one discipline your mind automatically refers to that discipline when you’re under threat.”

“But-”

“Except mine. Because I’m better than they are, see.”

Dirk subsided with a sigh and Yoz turned back to her friend. She began to list items none of them had heard of, things that sounded like the ingredients to spells; unicorn horn, ground sloth spleen, whale fur, dragon’s eyes.

“Dragons?” said Kai, and she winked.

“I think we’ve got most of this stuff,” said Moira, nibbling her lip as she scrolled through their inventory, “and what isn’t in the public stores someone will have stashed. But Yoz,” and she looked up, frowning, “where are you going?”

“Good question. How well shielded are the house and grounds?”

“Very. If you want to do any heavy duty scrying you’ll have to go outside.”

“Crap, thought so. Is this place being watched any harder than any of the other houses?”

“Not that we know of - but I can arrange for some diversionary noise to be made at some of the others, if that would help.”

“It would - they know I’m going to be searching, so if you could stretch it out toward the UK and, oh, the States? That might help. Let them think I’m about to go tearing off in the wrong direction.”

“Wait, wait,” said Henjo, “what? Noise? Searching?”

“Magic makes a kind of,” and Dirk paused, flicking his tongue across his lips as everyone turned to look at him in surprise, “noise. And light. And if you know what you’re looking for, and you look in the right place… you can see it. Hear it.”

“How do you - oh,” replied Henjo, remembering the demon. Dirk shrugged and looked away.

“Each Magus has a particular signature to their energy as well,” said Moira softly, “and we know Yoz well enough that we can duplicate hers.”

“That’s new,” said Yoz, eyeing her friend. “Keeping secrets, are we?”

“From you?” said Jason, appearing from round one of the tall, dark book stacks, “of course. That stuff you wanted is being packaged now.” He leaned on the counter and dropped Moira a wink.

“Thanks. Moi, how long until the noise starts?”

She turned back to her computer, and after a couple of minutes frantic typing turned and nodded. “An hour, tops.”

“Good. I want Dirk and Henjo to stay here - Kai, you’re with me. Nobody else.”

The two men began to argue noisily, Jason joining in the objection; he claimed it wasn’t safe for the pair of them to be out there alone, not for them or for the House. If they were spotted and attacked, what then? Dirk and Henjo’s argument was simpler - being left out just wasn’t fair. Daniel and Eero were their friends too; they’d started this jaunt together and didn’t see why they shouldn’t be a part of-

“Enough!” roared Yoz, adding harmonics to her voice that shook the floor. The three men shut up, closing their mouths with three almost audible snaps.

“Enough,” she repeated, her voice falling almost muffled into the shocked silence. “Now you see why I prefer to work alone; it’s a fuck sight quieter. You two, stay out of trouble. Kai, come with me-”

“When you find him,” said Jason, clearing his throat a couple of times to get her attention, “I can translocate whatever team you decide to take to wherever you need to be.”

Yoz turned on him, eyes wide. “You haven’t got the power.”

He grinned. “I’m an experimental alchemist, remember? I’ve been working on it for a while.”

“Holy shit. And it works?”

“Yeah.”

She clapped him on the arm with a grin, then turned and winked at Moira. “If he’s as good in the sack as he is at his job you’ve collared a good one here, mate. Come on, Kai…”

She rushed from the library with the complaining redhead in tow, leaving her friend with face flaming amidst the snickers of the three men.

“Shut up!”

~*~

On the whole, Kai wasn’t a great lover of the outdoors. Surfing in Hawaii, sure. Where it was warm and sunny and the women were beautiful and the beer was cheap.

Out in the mountains of northern Europe as the cool of the spring afternoon shaded toward the chill of evening? Not so much, no.

Especially not when he had to follow a Magus through the thickest undergrowth, fighting his way through thickets and bushes, getting snagged on thorns and hung up on branches. She, damn her, was flitting through the tangle of vegetation like some sort of ghost, leaving nothing but a chuckle and a wisp of blue-grey cigarette smoke behind her.

He eventually caught up with her in a little clearing that had - once he’d got his breath back enough to appreciate it - a magnificent view. She was sitting cross legged on a rock, elbows resting on her knees, eyeing the view and smoking. He leaned on the side of the lump of granite and puffed before fumbling in his pocket for his own cigarettes; she cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement as he took the first long drag, sighing the smoke out with relief.

“Better?”

“Fuck you,” he snorted.

“Hmm,” she replied, turning her attention outward once more.

“So what are--”

“The advantage of having the other Houses making a lot of noise,” she said, appearing to ignore his words, “is that we can make a little noise of our own and not be noticed.”

Kai watched her, eyes alight. Something was afoot - apart from the search for Dan and Eero - and he wanted to know what it was.

“Which means,” she said with a sigh, turning her head to the side and watching him, “that we can start your training.”

“What, now?”

“Now.” She eyed him with a smile. “If you want, of course.”

Kai practically bounced, grinning so hard that she laughed softly. Even in the middle of all the worry and fear, he was still like a child with a new toy.

“What are we going to do? Will I be able to do some of the things you do? What can--”

She laid a finger on his lips, shaking her head with a snort. “One thing at a time, my friend. You have to walk before you can run.”

He pouted. “I do not _want_ to walk.”

“Tough. Case of having to. Now,” she said, and remaining cross legged on her rock she took his shoulders, turning him aroundand pulling him back until his back was against the face of the slab, her legs touching his shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

He obeyed her, trembling slightly with the excitement.

“We’re going to look around us,” she said, her voice falling into a low, hypnotic croon, “so we can see the connections, the life. Now relax, and open your mind.”

He fidgeted, earning himself a snort. “Alright then. Follow me.”

He’d felt the touch of her mind before, several times; she’d taught him a few shielding exercises, walked him through them until he was competent. This was different, however; the touch of her mind was lighter, no longer drawing him in the right direction but showing him where to go, making him do the work himself. He struggled to follow, grinding his teeth and beginning to sweat.

“Relax,” she said quietly, and he couldn’t have said whether her voice was inside his head or coming through his ears, “you have it inside of you. Just let it out - a little... at... a time....”

The end of a thread that when pulled unravels a whole garment, that was what it felt like. As soon as he relaxed he caught the trick of it, picked up a thread by his foot that glowed and caught his attention. Following it out he lifted his attention, swinging his perspective to include the whole of the view he’d been watching earlier.

“Oh...oh my...Gott _dam_....”

She chuckled. “Good, innit?”

“Fuck.”

He’d been Outside before, seen the way life coruscated and shone with light when seen from the flip side of reality. But now he was looking at it from the inside he could see the entire valley as one living, breathing entity. Individual lights were harder to see; the tracery that he’d noted before wasn’t so obvious. But the whole vista beat like a heart and glowed with life - sheer, exuberant, burgeoning _life_.

“Because we’re still on the Inside,” she said, as calm as if they were discussing something trivial over dinner, “most of what you’re seeing is just aura. Everything that lives has an aura; everything that was alive, that has been alive, that will be alive. Raise your right hand.”

He did, turning his altered gaze to it without opening his eyes. It was...astonishing. There was simply no other word for it. He could see the blood rushing through his own veins, altered now to glow like gold; threads and tendrils of brightness raced through his skin, gilding him until everything shone with sheer, vibrant life.

“That’s what I see when I look at you,” she said softly. “That...shine. It’s unique.”

He turned to her, meaning to ask her a million questions about it, but stopped with a gasp. Everything he’d seen so far had fitted, had looked - somehow - _right_ ; it wasn’t that she looked wrong, exactly, but that she--

“I don’t fit, do I?” she said, a bitter little laugh running under her words. “You see me now as I am. Not a creature of Heaven or Hell, not a natural beast at all. Betwixt and between and something of nothing with a bit of everything, that’s what I am. It’s what keeps me alive.”

He thought about this, nodding slowly through his shock. She was right, he realised; she stood apart from the living vibrancy of the landscape in the same way that a fly walking on the surface of a photograph is apart from the image. On it, rather than of it. She was written in linked sigils, the chatter of the symbols drawing her form in something that left the mere three dimensions he was used to far behind. He shook his head, lifting his hand to stare at it in wonder once more.

“And now you know what you are, and what I am, let’s see if we can teach you to hide a little better,” she said, hopping down from the rock and approaching him. He swayed back - still keeping his eyes closed - somewhat unnerved to see something that didn’t look human at all coming so close. She stopped, and the regularly ordered scrolls of her being seemed to indicate that she was shaking her head.

“I’m still me, you know.”

He steeled himself, reached out a hand and touched her.

A window opened in his mind, and for a brief moment he saw her history, the pain and the joy and the sorrow that had shaped her, the long journey from humanity to something else entirely. She shook his hand off, and the window slammed shut.

“What _was_ that?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with just yet. Now. See how the auras of everything around you blend, make a landscape of their own?”

He turned from her and looked around himself, trying to make his mind take it all in. She was, he found, quite correct; if you focused in one particular area you could begin to separate the individual auras of plants, animals, rocks. But unless you really looked hard it all sort of melted together, and you got a confusing - if beautiful - melange of the entire landscape. Disconcerting, at best.

“Right. So what you need to do is try and hide your own aura under that of the whole place - sort of blend in. Make sense?”

“No.”

Yoz hissed. “Fine. Watch me.”

He swung back to face her, and watched her closely with his mind. The scribbled mass of sigils began to fade - no, not fade, exactly; they were changing colour, taking on the same overall glow that lit the area around them. She kept the process slow enough for him to follow, then reversed it until she was back to what was, for her in this strange, changed landscape of the mind, normal.

“See?”

“I think so,” he said.

“Try it.”

By the time he’d successfully managed to achieve the trick of hiding his aura by blending it to reflect the same general colour as the rest of the world he was exhausted. Opening his eyes he slumped against the rock, more than a little annoyed to see that she was lounged, perfectly relaxed and fresh on her rock.

“Bitch,” he muttered, and she tossed a cigarette to him with a grin.

“Yup,” she said.

~*~

She set him several more exercises - how to move and keep your own aura reflecting the colours of what was around you, how to make yourself blend with a rock, a tree, how to stand quite still and seem to be something else - and told him to practice while she searched. He stuck his lip out and scowled, earning himself a pat on the shoulder and a light laugh.

“You can watch, that’s fine. But then you need to practice, OK?”

He nodded, and leaned back against a tree, closing his eyes; he still hadn’t learnt the trick of overlaying one sort of vision over the other. The couple of times he’d tried it had made him distinctly queasy; it would, she assured him, come with time. He made himself fade into the foreground - it was definitely getting easier the more he did it - and relaxed, watching her work.

She rose to her feet, stretching her arms out and dropping her head back; if he cracked his eyes open a little he could see her standing on the rock like that, perfectly still in the quiet, fresh air of the forest. Her jacket hung from her arms like that of a scarecrow, the tattered fringes swaying a little in the slight breath of air whispering through the trees; feet together, the worn soles of her boots gripping the solid surface of the rock and holding her in perfect balance, her ribcage barely moving as her breathing slowed until it was as near to imperceptible as made no odds. She seemed to be held in stasis, still as a statue - but if he closed his eyes and watched her that way a whole different story became obvious.

The wireframe of her extra-physical form trembled, balancing on a point - then exploded outward, her senses taking flight as they searched for Daniel. In a heartbeat she resembled some bizarre undersea creature, waving tendrils of awareness spreading into the distance, arching toward the horizon and vanishing even from the view of the mind’s eye. The threads returned to be absorbed into the seething mass of her awareness, new ones springing out to replace them; one such paused and caressed his face, bringing with it a shiver of amusement. He shook his head, astonished, then opened his eyes.

No change. The Magus still remained poised on her rock, frozen immobile with intense concentration.

Closed eyes? The unbelievable once more, glow of life surrounding him fading into normalcy when confronted by the sight of Yoz working her magic in the open air; he could see how she drew power from her surroundings, connecting with it and feeding from it, making the strength of the entire valley somehow her own. This was her talent, this the basis of her skill. She could transform the power that surrounded her and bend it to her own ends, use it for whatever purpose she deemed necessary.

Kai shook his head. He’d have to think about this. One thing was for damn sure, though - magic sure wasn’t the hocus-pocus-wiggle-the-fingers process he’d thought it was. And seeing the sheer forces involved made him question how advisable it was to get involved; seeing her riding the life force of a whole mountain range like that was rather, well, humbling. But then...

Watching, he had to admit that it was fascinating. And rather awesome. And--

\--what if he could learn to do that?

~*~

By the time she had the information she needed night was falling and Kai was thoroughly bored.

It was a shift in her poise - that until that moment had remained just the same as when she’d begun - that alerted him. He’d been practicing getting both sets of vision to overlay each other, with some success, when he heard her sigh and shift. He cocked his head up at her, grinned, and said--

Whatever he’d planned to say was lost when she flipped from the rock, landing hard on her side, wide eyed. He’d never seen so much as a single clumsy move from her so to see her take a dive like this stunned him. her too, of the way she rolled to her back and blinked at him was any indication.

“The fuck?” she said, and rolled to her knees with a curse. Kai shot across to join her, crouching by her side and reaching out a hand to steady her as she swayed.

“Yoz!”

She hissed, putting one hand under her jacket and snapping out a few words under her breath. That done she nodded, and grabbed Kai by the shoulder to stare hard into his eyes.

“Look around. What do you see?”

He shut his eyes. A test, was it?

Not a test. His eyes flew open, wide with panic. “Darkness! Like that shit at Henjo’s but bigger--”

“Yeah. We’ve been outmanoeuvred by the Illuminati, my friend. The good news is that I know where Dan and Eero are.”

Kai hunched lower next to her, leaning his shoulder against her, looking around for any physical sign of the ones that were creeping their dark stasis over the countryside. “The bad news?” he asked.

She bared her teeth at him. “I’ve been shot,” she replied.

 _~TBC~_


	4. Heaven Or Hell

_****_

Heaven Or Hell

 

They ran. Tripping over branches, slithering across the last of the autumn’s dead leaves, rotted into slippery mush, crashing through undergrowth - well, Kai was, Yoz was ghosting through in her usual smooth fashion - heading back toward the relative safety of the House. Gunfire crackled from close by, a cacophony of distant roars, and Kai skidded to a wide eyed halt, skinning his hands on the spiny-rough flakes of tree bark as he clutched close to it in fear. Gunfire? And who, or what, was doing all the screaming?

Yoz reappeared at his shoulder, expression tight, a wetness shining on the arm of her jacket that smelled like blood.

“Kai!”

He shivered, hugging the tree as though it were his last connection with sanity. The lesson, all the calm and certainty he’d managed to collect around himself - all gone, buried under a mind that yammered about bullets and fear and hate and _they’re coming to get me!_

She gripped his arm, spoke slowly and calmly, soothed him with her presence and her words and the careful stroke of her hand on his arm. He shivered again, hard, and she leaned her shoulder into him.

“Kai. We’re not stuffed, not yet. You need to keep moving. I can’t carry you, my friend - if we’re gonna get back to the house we have to walk. Come _on_.”

Flashing in the early darkness, a rattle of bullets overhead shaking him loose from his stupor. He heard Yoz curse, felt her push him in one direction while she shot off in another.

 _Calm, Kai. Keep moving, keep walking, you know where the house is so just keep moving._

A rumble from beside him and he leapt sideways with a shriek, stumbling over a strand of briar and falling into the wet darkness of leaf mould and organic muck and sharp spikes and pointy bits of the rubbish that nature left lying around to fool the unwary. Crawling around, shaking sweat-knotted hair out of his eyes he looked up - and froze.

Cocking its head to look at him, the ghost of a growl rumbling through the barrel chest was --

It couldn’t be. There hadn’t been any in the Harz mountains since the Romans left.

Maybe the bear hadn’t read the right textbooks, because when it pushed its muzzle into his shoulder and flipped him over it felt terribly, horribly real. He could smell it, the deep animal rank of its coat and the meaty huff of its breath cool through the shoulder of his leather jacket; the claws and teeth couldn’t be far behind, he thought.

He lay still, almost pissing himself in sheer terror; play dead, he thought again, his mind skittering in the tiny circles of abject panic. Hadn’t he read that somewhere? Play dead and they’ll lose interest, wander off. Because you’re not a threat and once you’re not a threat--

The bear apparently found this amusing, because it rumbled that grinding, balls-lifting growl again but this time the lips fluttered over the teeth and oh God, was it smiling? Or was that his loopy brain misinterpreting the way a hungry bear looks at breakfast?

Automatic fire exploded close by once more and the bear flinched, dropping its forequarters into a crouch and snarling over its broad, brown-black shoulder. It sure seemed to be angrier with whoever was doing all the shooting rather than him, but stuck as he was here under this massive chest how did he know that it wouldn’t take out its frustration on his - all of a sudden very fragile feeling - body?

He heard the tiny noise of claws clenching in the ground, digging long scores on either side of his body, and gave some fairly serious consideration to passing out.

More slithering in the bushes, and Yoz dropped to her knees beside him, her grin as wolfish as any he’d seen her use. Sharp joy sparkled in the twist of her lips, the flash of muzzle-light from her teeth and the brief, bright gleam of her blue eye in the darkness.

“Wotcha Kai. See you’ve met Beorn, then. Cool, huh?”

The bear huffed, and there was _definite_ amusement in the tone this time.

He sagged into the wet ground and concentrated on breathing. Because if he let his emotions get hold of him, he’d likely strangle her; would it have _killed_ her to warn him? He wouldn’t have wanted much, just a swift verbal note along the lines of ‘oh, and watch out for the bear but it’s OK, it’s on our side....’

The bear sat back on its haunches and cocked its head to look at him, tiny boot button eyes alight with intelligence. On a whim he stretched out a tendril of that Other Sight, and gaped; the bear wasn’t a bear at all it was--

“Strictly speaking he is, right now,” said Yoz, rising to a crouch by the animals side and burying her hands in its thick fur, “although he can change shape at will. Known in polite company as a Skinwalker, and in less polite as the were-bear.”

The animal rose on its haunches and swung one heavy paw at her in a playful cuff, which she dodged with a grin. Kai was still gaping; if that blow had connected it would have taken her head off clean, batting it from her shoulders like an overripe melon. Long claws gleamed in the occasional light, shiny black with wet and sharp as knives; the bear looked back at him with sympathy in its gaze, and offered its paw in an unmistakeably human gesture.

He took it, and let the beast help him to his feet.

It was huge. Even sitting on its backside the way it was its head was higher than his; it lowered that great, wide muzzle and pushed the centre of his chest, amusement showing in that deep black gaze. Its eyes only looked tiny because its head was so big, he realised with a sort of panicked clarity; they were, in actual fact, bigger than his own.

“Beorn, Kai Hansen. Kai, Beorn. Now--”

Gunfire close by made them all duck, the bear with a growl. Kai suddenly found the huge, solid bulk very comforting indeed; if you had to be stuck in the woods with unknown assailants shooting at you it sure helped to be with a mountain of flesh that could rend anything that came too close. And act as a damn good barrier, come to that. He didn’t think bullets would reach him through all that hair and muscle and bone.

He felt a bit ashamed of the thought.

“Right,” said Yoz, snorting at him as though his musings had been said aloud, “the House is under attack. We’ve got to get back in, grab Dirk and Henjo, then run.”

“What about Dan?”

Kai didn’t think he was going to like the answer, and the way the bear and Yoz exchanged glances made him practically certain of it.

“We’ll have to see, Kai.”

“What? No!”

“Rule one: She who fights then runs like fuck, lives to try once more her luck. Remember that.”

“But--”

“Can’t help anyone if we’re all dead, can we?”

“No, but--”

This time the bullets shredded through the branches directly overhead, making him cringe and Yoz swear. “Which is what we’re going to be if we don’t get moving. Between Beorn and I we should be able to keep you alive all the way to the gates.”

He would have been a lot happier if he hadn’t heard her mutter under her breath as she turned away:

“I hope.”

The bear growled a chuckle deep in its chest, and with one hand buried deep in the fur of its shoulder Kai followed it as they made their way through the bullet riddled darkness toward the house.

~*~

Dirk had been dreaming. Something dark about cold blood and alleyways, the smells of piss and rotten garbage still strong in his nostrils as he jerked awake, fear-sweat cooling on his chest, the sour odour of his sudden awakening driving the dream-scents away with a shudder. The claws of the nightmare left him with reluctance; he could still taste blood, and it took him far, far longer than it should have done to realise that he’d bitten through his lip in terror.

He still wondered whose blood he could recall tasting, and had to fight down an urge to vomit.

And--

He turned his head, slowing his breathing from panicky, hiccuping gasps to a more reasonable pace. Something had woken him. Now what was...?

The explosion shook him from his bed, tore dust and flakes of plaster from the ceiling and made his ears ring. Violence trembled in the air, but there was a single breathless second where the whole world took a breath and blinked its eyes wide, stunned at the sudden hostility wreaked on the sleeping House.

Then the screaming started. And with it, bursts of gunfire. The roar of shotguns, the crackle of small arms and the howl of automatic fire, chattering of bullets against concrete and the whoomph-hiss-whistle of--

He rolled into a ball, locked his hands behind his neck and cowered under the bed when he heard the sound, recognised from a lifetime of war movies and news reports in hotel rooms around the world. Somebody always wanted to catch the news and warzones were news so....

So he was protected from the blast when the mortar round exploded, and shielded from the crash of debris when the roof fell in.

~*~

Henjo was bored. He was also tired, and had been spending the last few hours since Yoz and Kai had rushed off to do whatever-it-was in the forest (and he had a few dark and sneaky suspicions that nakedness might be involved somewhere) wandering the house, exchanging smiles and nods with the few people he’d got to know. Nobody seemed to have time to talk, and so after what was really quite a short time he was feeling thoroughly fed up and bored. And abandoned. And more than a little bit lost, he realised, looking up for the first time in a while; he’d found his way to a part of the house he’d never been in before, and accepted with a sigh that he had not the faintest idea which way to go to get out.

Well, it couldn’t be that big, right? All he had to do was wander around and eventually he’d find something he recognised.

Down here it was cooler, the walls fine cut stone and not the plaster and paint of the upper levels; there was a definite patina of age about the place, and he wondered idly how old it was. He supposed the house might be built on the ruins of an older one, and so on and so forth back who knew how long--

He stopped, and frowned. Where had that thought come from? He knew nothing about architecture, or how to age buildings so why...?

Then he remembered Yoz telling him something about buildings being alive. Everything being alive, but bricks and mortar soaking up the auras of those that lived and loved and died there--

Died?

There was a cheerful thought. And it didn’t feel like one of his.

Maybe the building itself was trying to tell him something?

“Henjo Richter, you are insane,” he told himself firmly, hoping the sound of his own voice would chase away the odd frisson of eeriness that was beginning to raise the hair on the back of his neck. It didn’t work, just made the sense of being alone - well, of being the only human in the corridor - even stronger, the uneasiness even more palpable. It was getting hard to breathe, the stone of the walls feeling as though it were reaching toward him, trying to crush him with gritty grey fingers of fear.

Henjo took in a deep breath, expanding his lungs with the cool, slightly damp air of the subterranean passage (and how did he know he was underground? He hadn’t, he realised. Until now, that was) and letting it soothe the fear from the inside. The slow stream of of breath that he released, warmed with his body heat, smoked faint silver before him, and he watched it while he tried to think himself calm.

Yoz had a room that was alive. And he had touched it and made a connection with it.

So buildings could be alive, yes. This was, in point of fact, no weirder than some of the other things that had gone on since they’d begun this insane jaunt.

If he could talk to one building, perhaps he could talk to another.

The thought made him dizzy with the utter lunacy of it. Talk to a building?

He turned to the wall, shrugged, and put both his palms against the stone, spreading his fingers across the chiselled surface, feeling the tiny ripples in the stonework that the softness of his very human flesh moulded itself around. He pressed, feeling nothing but the cool bite of a little damp, a little chill; insanity, as he’d thought. There was nothing here but rock, and he felt his cheeks heat when he wondered just how stupid he looked, standing here.

He snorted. What the fuck was he doing, standing here in a stupid corridor with his hands on the stonework like some kind of bloody mystic?

Best leave that shit to their Magus, and stick to just keeping his head down.

He shifted his weight back, lifting the pressure from his hands before dropping them to his sides and plodding on in his weary exploration.

Too late. Awareness curled from the ancient stones and mortar, lashed around his wrists and shot up to wrap around his mind, and he fell.

~*~

Moira jolted awake, pupils dilated in the gloom, and didn’t question the impulse that drove her to grab her glasses and drag Jason from their bed to run from the room, pulling him into the corridor and slamming the heavy door behind them.

None too soon, as it transpired.

The crump of an enormous explosion shook them from their feet, followed by the whistle-crash of mortar fire and the answering bellow of guns from those set to watch from the roofs; someone screamed, and she just hoped like hell it wasn’t her.

People erupted from their rooms, some coughing and some staggering; Jason stared at her, then spun to yank the door of their suite open. It jammed after just a short arc had been completed, broken hinges squealing and wedging solid on detritus and steel debris.

Dust poured from the crack, and he got a brief glimpse of flames and ruin - not to mention a dirty great hole in the wall where the window and frame had been - before slamming the shattered door shut and staring at her with wide eyes. She shrugged.

“Been hanging out with Yoz too long, I guess.”

He snorted, and shook his head; she tried to think about what they should do next, but was overwhelmed with the panic of the crowds milling in the corridor, the smell of dust and smoke and shattered wood and blood--

Oh god, blood.

The Guildford House, not so long ago. Fighting her way over the bodies of those she called friend, trying to find her way out through the chaos and the death. She’d sworn then she’d never let it happen to her again, and the gentleness of her expression hardened in a way Jason had never seen before. Despite the nightdress, despite the confusion, she suddenly looked like someone Jason wouldn’t want to fuck with.

Ever.

“Find me a gun,” she said between gritted teeth.

“What--?”

Hissing between her teeth she grabbed his hand, and towed him off toward the armoury, shouldering her way between milling, panicked people.

“First we get guns. Then we go find Dirk and Henjo,” she added, and wondered if they were still alive.

~*~

It was under attack.

It had been trying to warn those it had been set to protect, the ancient awareness - and he realised with a shudder just how ancient it was, now, far far older than anything he’d touched before - for the first time trying to make itself known. It had watched the suffering for long enough, and with the stirring of the titanic forces in this struggle it had been jolted into trying to act, not just watch.

He saw Dirk, pulled from his dream and reacting before he could think. Moira dragging Jason to the corridor, Richard startling awake with a roar, reaching for his glasses and bellowing for his attendants, setting off alarms that were - even then - already too late. He saw individuals yanked from sleep, their natural sensitivity or innate wariness allowing the house to touch their minds, warn them. It had taken a massive effort, the strength of stone, but it had managed it.

For some.

Others it couldn’t rouse, and some had been jerked awake by the gunfire or the explosions, but many had just died without ever knowing what happened, passing from sleep to death with no transition. Others had registered a blinding moment of pain, of heat or crushing pressure before they had the life torn from them.

It showed him blood, and waterfalls of torn flesh and the way its body - all splintered and shattered - pierced and crushed and murdered those it had been set to protect.

The building mourned for those it killed, and Henjo was forced to watch.

It seemed to realise that it was hurting him, and cool sorrow washed across him. Sorrow, he realised, for him - no more than a tiny ant cowering in the cover of the deepest, oldest part of the giant body, but still important to it. It showed him how the forces were ranged against it, showed him the three racing back toward the gates. There were others, he saw; the forests had been filled with those watching and trying to protect, all in vain. Some were dead, some had scattered, most were fighting back but in the end they were going to lose. The enemy was ruthless and black, rolling over the lights of life and extinguishing them with nothing even approaching thought.

The House saw its own death approaching, and shivered with fear in Henjo’s mind.

He tried to comfort it, sharing a slender thread of sympathy and hope; it caressed him in return, glad that it wouldn’t go into the dark unremembered. Then it shook itself, and flashed through his mind how to get back to the main body of the others and how he could collapse this very tunnel behind him.

The tunnel that was filling with running forms, heading his way with guns and blank faces, invading from below.

He found himself on the floor, sitting up with a yelp of fear; he had to move, and fast before bullets started--

A whine of split air and a ping of ricochet signalled the first, and without another thought Henjo picked himself up and fled.

~*~

He very nearly got himself shot before he could warn anybody.

Charging out of the tunnel he was focused on reaching the alcove behind the little fountain - silent now, the explosion having ruptured the main water supply - and didn’t spot the man swinging a shotgun to bear on him, or hear the shout for him to stop. Another voice cried out, and a hand knocked the muzzle of the gun up toward the ceiling; Henjo squeaked when he felt the white hot blast of the cloud of pellets scream over his head, blasting a hole in the plaster above him.

He fell, wrapping his arms around his head and rolling to a halt at the man’s feet, whimpering at the closeness of the call. Hard hands grabbed him under the arms, hauled him up and shook him. He gibbered for a moment, trying to focus on the concerned faces and separate the roaring of the building in his head from the shouts all around him battering at his ears.

“Jesus Christ,” hissed someone, “look at his _eyes_....”

He shook himself loose, staggered over to the alcove and scrabbled along the plaster for a moment, looking for the gap in the stones that, if he slipped his hand into it--

He found the iron ring, got his fingers round it and yanked, feeling the chain attached pull taught, moving slowly but with a dull inevitability; shouts and ricochets began to echo and bounce from the tunnel he’d just exited, sending everyone to the ground. He pulled harder, swearing under his breath.

Stone shrieked, the carved blocks shaken sharply from their sleep of ages by the trembling chain reaction begun by Henjo’s desperate action; they began to fall, and horrified screams echoed from the tunnel before being cut off by the grinding roar of ton upon ton of stone filling in the ancient space.

A ghostly plume of white and grey dust arched from the mouth of what had been the vaulted corridor, then silence except for the faint bangs and crashes filtering through the bulk of the house from outside.

Henjo fell to his knees, and it took him a moment to recognise the voice trying to get his attention, the slim hand shaking his shoulder. He was still feeling the touch of the House itself, swimming in a glittering thread of self-satisfaction at the obliteration of its enemies.

It took a great deal to rouse stone, but when its ire did raise itself from slumber it took an awful lot of blood to sate it back to sleep.

“Henjo!”

A woman. It was a woman. Not Yoz.

Henjo’s eyes weaved up to see who was shaking and prodding him with such urgency.

“Under attack,” he slurred, wiping a hand across his eyes.

“I know,” she said through gritted teeth.

He blinked. Face streaked with dust, eyes red rimmed and cheeks marked with streaks of sweat - or tears, he couldn’t tell - all the gentleness he was accustomed to seeing driven out by determination. It clashed, somehow, with the frilly white nightgown and sensible slippers, but fit right in with the submachine gun she had slung under one arm, and which she held like one who knew exactly how to use it.

“Moira,” he said, forming the word with care. He felt the awareness of the building sliding from his mind, and his eyes widened with alarm. “Dirk!” he yelped, struggling to his feet.

She shot Jason a concerned glance. He shook his head, loose blond hair swinging around his naked, scratched shoulders.

“We looked. His room....”

“Is wrecked, I know.”

“Henjo,” she said, touching his arm, “we didn’t see him. The roof collapsed. He’s probably de--”

He slapped his hand over her mouth, drawing a snarl from Jason. “He is not! I need to see Richard, tell him what the house showed me--”

“The house?”

He hissed between his teeth. Time had accelerated, and was racing away from them while they dithered here in the basement.

“Yes! I need to tell Richard and get a gun and then,” he snarled, glaring just as hard at Jason as he was being glared at in return, “I’m going to get Dirk.”

~*~

It was dark.

Noisy, but dark.

Something was pressing on his back, something with sharp edges that threatened to snap his spine and crush his ribs.

Dirk fought, panic lending insane strength to his arms and legs; he twisted in his cocoon of dust and broken wood, dirt clogging his eyes and filling his mouth with the gritty taste of panic.

He sagged, panting, tears washing his eyes clear. Nothing to see, and they still burned from the scrape of dust across the delicate membrane but still. It felt a little better, and he rested and got his breath back while he tried to slow his breathing, push the blind beast of panic back into its hole for a while. He had to think--

He’d woken up. He was having a nightmare and he’d woken. Then there’d been a flash of light, and he was--

Well, here. Presumably under something; his mind brought up the word ‘explosion’, and had he the strength he would have sworn. As it was he just lay there and panted, trying not to think about what was going to happen next.

The House was under attack, that much was clear. Sounds of gunfire and explosions filtered through the rubble to him, faint and unreal with distance. So would he just be left under all this crushing weight until he ran out of air, or until the entire structure collapsed?

Something tickled his nostrils, and his muscles wrung tight with a new fear.

He could smell smoke. Fire. Maybe he would remain trapped here until he burned to death. He just hoped that the smoke would choke him first, dizzying and blinding then killing him before the sharp bite of the flame reached his flesh. He had a vision of his flesh blackening and curling, fat popping and running, his teeth shining white through the crisped grizzle of his charred flesh.

Fighting the urge to throw up he wriggled around in the sharp edged tomb, hunting for a way out, a piece that might shift and let him begin tunnelling, anything. Even if he dislodged something and brought the whole thing down on his head it had to be better than just waiting for the flames to reach him....

And speaking of flames, what was going to happen to him if he did die? His comfortable ignorance as to the existence - or not - of the soul had been torn from him late last year; would his struggle against the demon count for him, or would the mere fact he’d been touched by such evil mark him as one of the damned?

Still struggling against tears, digging at the rubbish and muck surrounding him, he began to pray.

~*~

Henjo was digging like a madman, burrowing through layers of plaster and lath, flinging timbers back and screaming Dirk’s name. Moira exchanged a glance with Jason; did they abandon him in his task, help out the others with the defence of the House? Escape plans were being drawn up, small groups trying to flee under covering fire, feeling out the strength of the attackers.

So far, what they’d discovered had not been good.

Whilst the force attacking them didn’t seem to be too large, it also appeared to be everywhere. Every route they’d tried had been cut off, the emergency underground escape route collapsed by Henjo, already compromised.

They were fighting for their lives, under siege - and losing.

In which case, said Moira’s expression, why not at least try to pull one more out to die with them? It had to beat dying under the bed, crushed to death by rubble.

Putting guns and ammo belts aside, the pair fell to helping Henjo dig.

~*~

Light.

Noise, close enough that it made him flinch and cry out.

A shift in the tension of the rubble around him had him screaming, the knee injured some years before howling in time with his voice as the ligaments re-tore. But all that was forgotten a moment later; strong hands gripped his wrists, familiar long fingers brushed dirt from his face and a very English voice laughed in his ear.

“Up you come, mate. You OK?”

Dirk staggered past a grinning, dirty Jason into Henjo’s arms, and burst into tears.

~*~

Kai was terrified. If you’d asked him right at that moment, he would have admitted that he thought he’d died without noticing and been transported to Hell.

The silence and all pervading peace of the mountains was gone, torn away by the black clad hordes who fought and died without a word. Faces blank masks, wearing some sort of goggles that removed their humanity as neatly as they enhanced their vision, they slaughtered anything that moved and fired what didn’t. It brought home to Kai something he’d heard, but never truly believed; fanatacism, real mad, insane dedication was almost impossible to beat. It had the sort of dumb force required to drive a toothpick through a telegraph pole, uncaring if it was itself destroyed in the process.

He shuddered and averted his eyes from the carcase of a deer; what had been the point of slicing it up with automatic fire, for fuck’s sake? It was an animal, running away from the noise.

Didn’t seem to matter to the Illuminati troops.

Beorn’s shaggy fur was matted with blood, not all of it his own. The bear was a terrifying companion, although apparently unstoppable; Kai had seen bullets rip through that thick coat, horrible wounds torn in flank and chest that were healing even before the muzzle flashes of the weapons had entirely faded. Then the beast would fall upon the attacker with a roar, and Kai was very, very glad it was too dark to see whatever happened next.

He was just relieved they hadn’t run into any of the Illumati that followed their automatic-armed brothers with flamethrowers; not even the massive strength of the bear would have been able to withstand the clinging fire that spat from the slender wands borne with such terrible, casual destructiveness.

Yoz was darting back and forth, face dark with anger but nevertheless clearing a little every time she saw that he was still alive, hanging on to the hulking shape of the bear, stumbling through mud and blood and ash but somehow keeping his fingers tangled in the thick, rank fur, staying alive and not getting shot.

The bear slithered to a halt, crouching low and breathing hard, shudders wracking the massive frame. Yoz reappeared, face like thunder, and caressed the animal’s muzzle briefly as she strode around to check on Kai. He was torn between grabbing her to ask - demand - what the fuck was going on, and trying to find out what was happening to his steadfast companion.

Beorn hunched lower in the mud, and his breathing rasped in his throat.

“Come on. I need to get us back in--”

She took his hand and turned away, making as though to simply walk away from the bear without another word. Kai dug the heels of his boots into the soft earth, refused to move; she swung back to him, face unreadable in the gloom.

“We can’t just leave him.”

The silent look she gave him spoke volumes; he was sure she was going to argue with him about it, but she stepped in and put one arm around his waist, rubbing the fingers of the other hand through the thick fur atop the bear’s shaggy head. Resting her forehead against his, her words were quiet, for him alone, although Kai saw one rounded ear flick toward them as Beorn listened in.

“Use your Sight. Look at him, Kai.”

Reluctant, he did so.

Fighting free from Yoz he scrambled around to Beorn’s head, pulling the bloody muzzle into his chest and holding it close, burying his face in the short fur and trying really, really hard not to cry. One look at the bear’s aura had told him a hell of a lot about the man inside the beast; he wouldn’t appreciate a lot of weeping and wailing, but he did want to know that his death wasn’t going to be in vain.

Stretching his mind, trying to think of a way to reassure the dying Skinwalker Kai felt something touch him; the mind of the man-beast didn’t use words, but a melange of emotions and colours and images to convey ideas, impressions, thoughts.

He was glad Yoz was going to get Kai away from the slaughter.

He didn’t mind sacrificing his own life to get Kai to safety.

Because he thought that Kai was going to save them all.

 _Bullshit_ , thought Kai to himself, then tried to convey as much of his admiration and thanks as he could to the dying bear. The injuries he’d sustained were too great, the materials the Illuminati troops constructed their bullets from too insidious to his changed system. He’d already sustained wounds that would have killed a natural animal a hundred times over, but it was catching him fast.

He was just glad he’d got this far.

Yoz tugged Kai’s shoulder, strong fingers closing on him and telling him it was time to go.

Kai sniffed back the threatening tears, hugged the bear again; he snorted, nuzzled Kai’s chest, and pulled himself to his feet with a groan.

They stood for a moment, the three of them, in the forest whose silence was torn from it by gunfire, illuminated in brief flashes of explosions, the quick white glares freezing their farewell into a series of static, monochrome images. Yoz nodded, took Kai’s hand, and led him away into the chattering darkness.

Kai heard the bear roar defiance at his attackers, and then they were gone.

~*~

Dirk still clung to Henjo as they were all ushered into the refectory for a briefing. They’d managed to hunt up some clothes for him; he’d found it a little ironic that all they could find to fit him were a pair of leather trousers, high leg combat boots and a leather jacket; he looked like some grim assassin, although as Jason had assured him, if he had to do any more crawling around to escape then leather was the best stuff to be in.

Henjo had mumbled agreement at this point, and vanished into the bathroom to change into his own leathers that had been lurking in the bottom of his holdall since this trip began; Moira, on seeing the leather clad pair emerge, had laughed and said that if they were indeed going to Hell then the pair of them would at least cut quite quite a dash when they arrived. Jason had held her close, and stroked her hair as she shook; she’d taken a deep breath and stepped back, wiping her eyes before telling them to come along.

The refectory was packed, most of the shifting, frightened mob bearing some evidence of violence on their persons, some barely able to stand, others just covered in dust and staring at the front of the room with shock-dulled eyes. Some blustered through their fear, others trembled and cowered, still more kept their peace but let the fear show in glossy, immobile expressions.

Richard rose and spread his hands, quieting the low mumbles. Dirk concentrated on breathing; the crush of bodies made him afraid, reminded him of the whispering press of beams and plaster and cold, stark terror. Henjo clutched his hand, and he leaned on his shoulder; at least if this was going to end badly he would have one friend by his side.

He just wished he could have said goodbye to Kai and Dan.

“We have tried to probe the attacking forces, push a way through to escape.” Richard ran his hand through his hair, and shook his head. “We cannot.”

The mass of people moaned and swayed, the fear now jumping from one to the other like a live thing. One spark, and it would become panic, the mass break and run, animals to be slaughtered.

“We have two options. One, to withdraw within the building and wait for the authorities to figure out that something strange is going on up here, and come to investigate; the Illuminati will not risk discovery, and will depart. However, they could have sealed the area with false warnings of chemical spills, nuclear contamination. We have no way of knowing. We could be trapped here until we all die.”

The room was silent now, most people not even breathing as they listened.

“Or we can seal the library, fire the House, and flee. If we all run at the same time they cannot kill us all...” his voice trailed away, and he spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

The murmuring began, a susurration of uncertainty and fear that was rapidly ratcheting up toward anger.

“What of the other Houses?” called someone, and Richard shook his head.

“They will know something is wrong - the first thing the Illuminati did was jam all communications in and out - but will wait for word as to what is happening. You know this. By the time they can help us we will all be dead, if we try and wait for them.”

More muttering, the occasional random, unintelligible shout. Everyone knew Richard was right, and that they were going to have to scatter like rats from a sinking ship; but people do not face the prospect of extermination easily, and so the room was filled with the sound of humanity arguing against the inevitable.

Richard called for quiet. “Enough, my friends! We must leave, now, before they expect us. If we hurry, we should be able to--”

“Get your silly arses shot off. Now if you’d care to stop and fucking listen, I happen to have a plan.”

Dirk found himself grinning like an idiot at the familiar voice slicing across the room. Henjo, Moira and Jason echoed the expression as a pair of figures hopped up onto the table that was acting as a temporary pulpit for Richard’s doom laden sermon; Yoz was keeping a firm grip on Kai’s hand, and although his expression was tight and unhappy, it did relax somewhat when he spotted the four people wriggling through the crowd towards him.

Sound exploded in the room, everyone shouting, talking, calling out, expressing an opinion of the woman baring her teeth wolfishly at the Head of House in front of his clan; she let them roar for a moment, then with a flip of her head to dismiss Richard she turned on them, bellowing for silence and, much to Dirk’s surprise, getting it. She swept them with her gaze, eyeing the frightened crowd before nodding and beginning to speak.

“Richard is half right. You can all break out together, and survive; but the Illuminati need to be all looking the other way when you do it. And since I don’t think they’ll do it if we ask them nicely, what we need is a distraction.”

She grinned, and yanked on Kai’s sleeve to pull him forward. He stepped up beside her, eyes haunted, jacket, trousers and boots soaked in thick black streaks of clotted blood.

“Which is where this man comes in....”

~*~

Yoz’ plan was simple, and consisted mainly of giving the attackers so much to think about that the fleeing Rosicrucians would be the last thing on their minds. It was still going to be dangerous and not everybody was going to make it, but it was their best chance; the success of the plan hinged on one thing.

Kai.

And his apparently endless supply of power, his ‘shine’, as she called it. She’d added that between the three of them there was enough power to blow the House from the face of the planet, and her eyes had glittered unpleasantly when she did so; Kai’s face had hardened at the words, and Dirk had wondered what on earth had happened to the pair of them outside.

With a wave and a sharp word she handed back to Richard, telling him to organise his people. Dragging Kai with her she bounced into the crowd, shoving through to link up with Dirk and Henjo. She gripped Moira’s hand and cocked her head, odd eyes flashing compassion at her gentle friend; Moi bit her lip and nodded, rushing away with Jason to assist her brethren. Yoz jerked her head toward the door, and the four of them slipped out of the hall while everyone was still shouting and milling in their terrified confusion.

The air outside smelled of dust and smoke and fear, and the first thing Yoz did was cup Dirk’s cheek in the palm of her hand. She frowned, shook her head; he looked away from her, not wanting to discuss anything that had happened tonight. It was still too raw, the terror only pushed far enough back to let him function, in no way vanquished. She hissed between her teeth, and stepped back.

“Right,” she said, “what we’re doing is this. We--”

“How long were you standing there?”

Henjo, voice tight with emotion. Dirk and Kai looked at him in surprise; he was usually so calm, the controlled one, the sensible one. Right now he sounded like he was the one wanting to start a fight. Her voice, when she answered him, was equally passionate.

“Long enough.”

“Why? If you had a plan you could have told them straight away. You didn’t need to let them get so frightened.”

“Henjo, when we’re out of this--”

“You had to wait until everyone was scared enough to follow you without question, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a query, his voice hard. She bared her teeth.

“Later, Henjo.”

He stepped in toward her, fists clenched. Dirk and Kai were wide eyed, but Yoz didn’t hesitate. She hit him in the centre of his chest with the heels of her hands, shoving him back. She did it again, hitting him hard, driving him back with each punch until his back hit the wall with a whoosh of expelled breath.

“We don’t have _time_ for this right now! Once we’re out and no fucker’s shooting at us we can scuffle all you fucking like but _not. Now!_ ”

He glared at her, but seemed to accept what she said, subsiding with a grumble, averting his eyes with a muttered curse. She turned to the others, growling under her breath, beginning to tell them with words sharp bitten in anger what they were going to do.

Dirk listened - it consisted basically of just doing as they were damn well told, as usual, she and Kai handling all the magic stuff - but extended a hand to the lapel of her battered jacket, wondering if the new rents and tears hid any fresh surprises underneath. Turning the edge back he hissed between his teeth; tucked into the angle of her shoulder was a huge gash, the edges of it blackened, the centre still oozing blood. Below that was a narrow slice, a knife wound, crusted with dried blood but obviously pretty serious. She didn’t stop talking, just plucked the jacket from his fingers and covered up again. He blinked at her. What else was she hiding? How badly was she hurt?

Kai shook his head, a tiny gesture that silenced him. It was just as obvious that he was unharmed; there was no way he would be standing so quietly, arms crossed and expression grim, if he was hurt. That just wasn’t Kai’s way.

“Right, you all got that? Now I know Dirk’s stuff got buried, but you guys had better go and scare up some supplies - fuck knows when we’re next gonna have the chance to stop. I’ve got some stuff coming for us up from the armoury, and in a moment Richard should be done--” she paused as Jason slipped from the room, joining them wordlessly, “--and if one of you could grab my bag from my room I’d be endlessly grateful. Go now - we don’t have much time.”

Kai beckoned to the other two, and the three of them ran for the stairs leaving Yoz talking quickly to Jason. Her words were muffled but the tone clear; tight with fear, things weren’t as cut and dried as she’d made out. If they got out of this it might well be some kind of miracle.

Dirk shook his head, and followed Kai.

~*~

Henjo had gone to Yoz’ room to find her bag - being next to Dirk’s it had taken some damage, but the roof was still intact - leaving Dirk with Kai. The noise from outside had subsided somewhat, although whether that was a good or a bad thing remained to be seen.

“What happened out there, Kai?”

Kai shrugged, the hurried movement of his hands as he packed slowing. He held still, wringing a clean shirt between his fingers.

“More people died.”

“Well, I figured that.”

Kai turned to him, his face tight with grief. “I touched his mind, Dirk. He got me out of there and he’s dying and I left him there.”

Dirk extended a hand, meaning to comfort him; he spun away, dropping his head and shaking it. “Don’t. Just...don’t.”

He stepped back, and watched him pack in silence.

~*~

By the time the three of them trotted back down the stairs the barrage from outside was heating up again, the defenders on the roof fighting back just as ferociously as the black clad attacking forces. The main power having been long knocked out, emergency lighting was all that illuminated their way; the eerie, pale glow made everyone’s eyes seem deep set and hooded, withdrawn and mysterious in the darkness.

Kai had managed to bury the grief and the fear, and if you didn’t look into his eyes you would almost think there was nothing wrong with him. Provided you didn’t look too closely, that was.

Yoz was standing beside a table heaped with guns and ammunition, several ammo belts slung around her hips and she angled a vicious looking weapon before her, sliding the bolt back and forth as she checked action and cleanliness. Spotting them, she held out her hand for her bag; Dirk tossed it, and she caught and slung it over her shoulder in one smooth motion, waving her hand at the table with a smile.

“Help yourself, gents. Everything needs to be stripped from the place, so we get as much firepower as we can carry.”

Kai squeaked happily, descending the last few steps at a run and rummaging through the pile with delight. Jason, waiting quietly beside Yoz with a very full rucksack on his back, sighed and began to help Kai select something that he stood a chance of being able to use effectively. Dirk hung back, standing beside Yoz and watching Henjo get almost as excited as Kai over the guns.

“I’m sure it’s just the fact they’ll get to fight back for a change that’s motivating them,” she murmured, eyeing Dirk with some sympathy from beneath her fringe.

“And not just being overgrown teenagers? Yeah, right,” he snorted, making no move to select weapons of his own.

She shrugged and looked away, then sighed and turned back to him. Even allowing for the strange, flickering half-light of the emergency illumination Dirk’s eyes were shadowed; his gaze was haunted, and she had a pretty good idea of what was running through his head. After all, when you can read minds the fear of death has a tendency to be lit up in big red neon letters, but that wasn’t his only concern. He’d been fretting about several things since being trapped in his room, and hadn’t worked his way through the concerns yet. Not to a degree where he could be comfortable with the conclusions he kept arriving at, anyway.

“If you worry too hard about Hell you won’t be able to keep your mind on what we’re doing,” she said to him, keeping her voice so low that only he could hear her. “And then you really are fucked. Nothing’s decided yet. Nothing is set in stone. Your path doesn’t have to lead to that place, you know.”

A rumble from below them made everyone look. Jason sighed.

“They’ve sealed the library. The first group leaves in ten minutes - we have to go, now, or everyone’s fucked.”

Yoz selected a shotgun from the pile and shoved it into Dirk’s hands, scooping up a couple of boxes of shells and sticking them in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Ready when you are. Dirk,” she said, lowering her voice again and ignoring Kai and Henjo, who were trying to eavesdrop without looking too obvious, “keep your mind on what we’re doing. For once,” and she raised her voice again, cocking her head with a fond smile at Kai, “we’re on the side of the angels, drat the whole feathered flock of ‘em. So who knows? If any of us get our fool heads blown off we might even end up in Heaven.” She snapped a clip into the submachine gun she carried and winked. “Well. You guys might. Ready?”

Without waiting for another word, she turned and followed Jason deeper into the house, toward the back door they were going to try and slip out of, unseen. Dirk exchanged glances with the other two, then shrugged and fell in behind them.

Time to go.

~*~

Whoever was on the roof was putting up a hell of a fight, but it wasn’t enough. Whole sections of the defence had fallen silent, flames licking across those areas and devouring the bodies of the defenders as eagerly as they destroyed the fabric of the building itself. Other areas lay in collapsed ruins, and from a few of these gaping wounds muzzle flashes still spat, evidence of defiance in the teeth of their enemies.

Black clad figures were beginning to be obvious even in the House compound, not all of them human; Kai shuddered when he spotted a cloud of the stuff that had attacked Henjo in Hamburg slink across the ground, taloned tendrils plucking across the earth as it oozed. They cowered in the deep shadow of an outhouse, and braced themselves to run.

“We head north,” murmured Jason to them. “Ready?”

“No,” said Dirk, only to be elbowed by Kai. Henjo showed him - as fast as he could - how to reload his shotgun, and with fully loaded guns they waited for the signal.

“Now,” said Yoz, and led them out into the firestorm.

~*~

By the time they managed to drop back into cover and catch their breath Dirk was shaking like a leaf, and even Kai’s eyes were wide with fright. He’d seen things he never wanted to see again; Yoz tearing people apart with the horrible gun she carried, bodies splashed and torn and burning, great smoking holes blasted in them. And not all the enemy, either; they’d stumbled across one of the escaping parties, struggling to get away from the Illuminati that were steadily slaughtering them, and by adding their own firepower had seen at least a few slip away. But so many dead, familiar faces frozen forever in shock and fear and pain.

“They’re dying, Yoz,” said Jason between his teeth. “We need to do this _now_.”

“A little further,” she said, her face and tone neutral as she reloaded a fresh clip into her gun. “Or you’ll be dead as soon as you start. We need more distance.”

He swore at her, his voice stretched with desperation; none of them had asked him about Moira, and he didn’t seem to want to bring the subject up himself.

Henjo touched Kai’s arm, his own eyes shadowed with fear. He’d never, ever thought he would be in a situation like this; what was a sensible musician like him doing in a bloody war zone? People he’d chatted with idly over breakfast, women he’d flirted with in the library - nothing more than shapeless heaps on the forest floor. Torn and stinking and sprawled, innards splashed across the new spring growth or nothing more than smoking char from which bone gleamed here and there, in patches, throwing back the chattering light in macabre reflection.

Kai shook his head and turned away, forcing himself to work the mechanism on his own gun, loosening it. With the heat from the sprays of automatic fire he’d been unleashing it had stuck a couple of times; from what Yoz had said they were a long way from getting out, so he was damn sure he didn’t want it to jam again.

Henjo hissed and turned from him, intent on crossing the small, sheltered hollow to speak to Yoz. He was, therefore, the only one looking in that direction when one of the Illuminati footsoldiers crested the little rise and spotted them. He and Henjo stared at each other for a moment, then the soldier raised something that had the survival instinct rising up through Henjo’s brain to take control of his hands without allowing conscience to get in its way.

A wand. A flamethrower wand, that dripped liquid fire from the tip, promising a fast but extremely panful death for them all. They’d seen and heard the results of this brutal weapon, people and animals fleeing through the trees trying to outrun the flame that stuck to their skin and killed them even as they howled. Heaps of burning flesh, and the sound of screaming through vocal chords already crisping in the heat--

Henjo raised his shotgun and fired, twice.

The facemask exploded, taking the soldier’s head with it; the other three were on their feet in an instant, only to be thrown from them as the flamethrower’s tank detonated.

~*~

“I killed that man,” said Henjo, when Kai’s face appeared in his field of vision.

“I was afraid of this,” said Yoz, apparently calm as she crouched a little distance from the burning corpse. She was watching over the rise, trying to spot if the very noisy demise of the Illuminati trooper had drawn any attention. Thankfully - for them - people were dying very noisily indeed all over the forest, and this one death hadn’t drawn any especial attention.

Kai went back to patting his friends shoulder, trying to get him to sit up. Henjo wasn’t listening.

He was still watching in his mind - with horror - as he raised the gun and pulled the trigger...twice. Once he could have forgiven himself - shock and fear and disorientation forcing a reflex action - but twice? He’d killed him, and he’d meant it. He hadn’t thought he could kill anyone. Turned out that he could, and he was utterly devastated by the revelation.

“Hen, it was him or us,” said Dirk, crawling over to where Henjo was laid stretched out on his back. Scorched and dirty, he stared at Kai in mute appeal; they had to get moving again, get further out so that Jason and Yoz could execute their plan and try and save some of their Rosicrucian friends. The escape had become a rout, a slaughter, and if they didn’t move soon they would be the only ones left alive to fight.

“I killed him,” Henjo said again, and his voice this time carried echoes of madness. Kai growled, swung his own gun behind him and grabbed the front of his almost catatonic friends jacket. He yanked him to a sitting position, shook him like a rag.

“And if you don’t get off your skinny backside we’re going to die too! Do you want that?”

He shook him once more, practically bouncing him on the ground, and Dirk marvelled again at the strength contained in Kai’s body. He might not be big but by God, he was strong. The rough treatment appeared to be getting through to a shell-shocked Henjo, though, so Dirk just grabbed his shoulders and helped him stand, the pair of them manhandling their tall friend into a more-or-less upright position.

Yoz nodded at them, and before anyone could stop and think about anything else they were on the move again.

Dirk grabbed Henjo’s hand, and dragged him off in the wake of their somewhat less shell-shocked friends. He just hoped that neither one of them had to kill anybody else, or they might end up too shocked to run - and then they were dead.

~*~

They had been running for a while. Dirk had no idea how long for, becaue this night had become one long dream with no beginning and no end. Time seemed meaningless; no longer measured in seconds or minutes but in bodies, destruction, fire and death and mayhem. How many corpses had they stumbled over? How much suffering had they witnessed? How much more was there to endure?

No answers, only more questions.

Kai had cried out earlier, falling over the enormous body of a bear. Everyone else had skirted the huge, trembling pile of flesh and fur, but Kai had dropped to his knees and wailed; Yoz had grabbed him and dragged him away by the scruff of his neck, ignoring the swearing and cursing directed at her. Dirk figured he’d ask later; Kai’s eyes were wild and crazy, one step away from madness. And considering that Henjo was still muttering to himself and seemed to be stumbling along in a daze the last thing he wanted was to find himself with two companions driven insane by the trauma of this horrible night.

Yoz and Jason stopped, scanning the area they were in and coming to an agreement. Jason shucked the enormous backpack he’d been carrying, and began to rummage in it; Yoz grabbed the three others and began to talk to them, her voice low, tone urgent.

“Right, he needs a bit of peace to work. If we can grab enough time for him we can be out of here and away, and the power he draws is going to pull every Illuminati to this very spot - but we will, as I said, be gone.”

“Jason,” said Dirk, and Yoz looked away.

“Will have to take his chances. But if we’re going to get out of here with our skins intact--”

“But Jason,” said Henjo. Dirk was expecting Yoz to explode, but she just touched Henjo’s arm and looked hard into his eyes.

“What he does here is going to save the life of every member of that House still running. That’s why he agreed to do it. Or I would have tried something like it myself...and we’re going to help him. Me and Kai.”

“Me?” said Kai, shaken out of whatever little world of his own he’d been hiding in. Yoz grinned.

“Yeah. We’re going to put that shine of yours to work, mate. But in the meantime, I need you three to keep an eye out for anything unfriendly approaching. Shoot anything that moves, that sort of thing.”

Henjo opened his mouth to protest, but it was Kai that grabbed his elbow and hustled him off. The three of them found hiding places around the cleared area that Jason had chosen, straining every sense they had to alert them of approaching trouble. Yoz and Jason scuttled around in the centre of the clearing, muttering and spreading strange powders and scattering even odder substances around the place. Dirk’s nose twitched as he caught various scents, some unidentifiable but some so familiar they made him smile; cinnamon drifted across the air, closely followed by sulphur.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder when he heard Yoz exclaim in surprise, seeing her standing back with her hands on her hips and shaking her head over the piece of equipment Jason was connecting up. It looked a little like a military field radio, but was festooned with odd designs and weird, extra little bits of wire twisted into sigils and soldered onto the machine’s connectors. She was finding the whole thing very amusing, by her expression, and Dirk caught a flash of teeth as Jason grinned back at her.

He heard a noise in front of him, the snap of a twig, and jerked his attention back to the area he was supposed to be watching. Just in time, too; a single dark form was stumbling through the undergrowth, dragging its gun behind it, running into trees and generally seeming quite blind. Dirk huddled closer to the ground, carefully chambering a round in his shotgun; he didn’t want to kill anyone (else, added his conscience) but he would if he had to. They were so close--

The Illuminati soldier staggered away, falling and crawling for a few paces then wobbling to its feet. Something was very badly wrong with it, but right now Dirk really didn’t give a shit. He just wanted out of this godforsaken place.

“OK guys,” and Jason’s voice floated across the cool air to them all, “in you come.”

~*~

It was the strangest setup any of them had seen in their lives. A mad combination of technology and magic, slender copper wires strung between pegs bearing tufts of feather and daubed with paint, all leading to the augmented military radio sitting humming at the edge of the circle. Jason hunkered down next to it and started to fiddle with its dials; the wires began to glow softly, and Yoz beckoned them toward where she stood in the centre of the delicate tracery of glowing wire.

“I should be able to throw you all the way to Nuremberg. I’ve entered the co-ordinates of the place you wanted to go.”

“That’s a fuck of a long way, Jay.”

“With the extra power you’re going to be giving me I can do it. Plus the equipment will burn out - by the time the Illuminati get here there’ll be nothing but smoking slag.”

“Good idea,” she said, taking Kai’s hands and nodding at the other two. “Right, this could be rough. so shut your eyes if you feel sick, and hang on to your heads, OK?”

“Our heads?” said Henjo weakly, and she grinned at him.

“Figure of speech,” snorted Jason.

“If you say so,” said Yoz, and he rolled his eyes at her. Kai couldn’t believe that the pair of them were bantering as though not a damn thing was wrong, as though Jason wasn’t about to get torn to pieces. He was going to die and here he was, joking with them--

“Easy, Kai,” she murmured, then raised her voice. “OK boys. And Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“However this turns out - thanks. And good luck.”

He shrugged, and began to turn dials. Chanting an incantation he scattered a handful of sparkling powder across the equipment, dialled a number on the front of the machine and scooped up the now almost empty rucksack.

“Focus on that peg there in front of that - and I’m out of here. Good luck!”

And with that he ran, scampering away into the darkness and being lost to sight in a moment. Rustling began in the bushes, a strong wind whipping up from nowhere; Kai tried to figure out where it was coming from and had to accept, in the end, that it was coming toward the circle. From everywhere else.

His ears popped with the pressure, and he ground his teeth. Yoz’ hands tightened on his, and her voice echoed calmly in his mind, telling him what to do. He felt somewhat detached, gathering the calm into himself that he would need; he saw Dirk and Henjo boggling at the wires that surrounded them, thrumming and glowing in the noisy dark. A pentacle within a circle, more scribbles of symbols somehow twisted between the wires and beginning to move with a life of their own.

And it had been spotted.

 _Stay calm_ , said Yoz’ voice inside his mind, and he slammed his eyes shut and lifted his chin. He would do this and it would work, dammit!

Yoz had to admit to some measure of admiration. Bullets were beginning to hiss through the air around them, and although the three men were afraid none of them were anywhere near panic.

Kai reached his centre, and began to feed power through his connection to Yoz. The winds built to a roaring crescendo, the wires burning so bright that they all had to screw their eyes shut to prevent their retinas burning out. A column of power began to build, spiralling up into the night and drawing the attention of every creature for miles around; Yoz fed it and stoked it and hoped like hell that Jason’s paraphernalia would work the way he said it would.

Reality began to bend, and she would have shouted that they were off. Except that it took even her by surprise, and with a strangled shriek of tearing air the world fell in on them.

By the time the Illuminati reached the clearing all that was left was a smoking patch of earth.

 _~TBC~_


	5. New World Order

_****_

New World Order

 

If being thrown through space by a Magus was rough, then being bounced through by a machine - no matter how cleverly put together - was hideous.

Yoz lay on her back on the concrete, and wondered if all her bits were still attached.

The toes checked in. So did the legs.

That was a relief.

Arms and spine too, both complaining about the rough treatment; a slight shift on the pavement confirmed that at least she hadn’t rematerialised stuck halfway through it, and so sitting up was a possibility. She tried it.

OK, that worked. Although the blinding headache that accompanied the movement was...less than great. Still, she thought, squinting her eyes shut against the dawn and fumbling for her cigarettes, at least she was alive and in one piece. However, on lighting the first cig of the day - it being dawn in a new city it counted as the first, she decided - she was also alone.

Not so good.

“Shit,” she said with a sigh, and set about gathering her scattered belongings before searching for the others.

~*~

Kai drifted back to consciousness, and shivered.

It was cold.

He was cold.

But....

...if he could feel the cold that meant he was alive, right? Right.

He cracked an eye open, and tried to peer around himself; well, it would be easier and he would see more if he unwrapped his arms from around his head. He tried it, moving very very slowly.

Well, that worked.

He still had no idea where he was, but on the plus side he could move, everything still seemed to work, and nothing appeared to be broken. Although - and he cursed as he tried to stretch, hearing bone and muscle creak with the strain - he was as stiff as all hell, and everything certainly ached like a bastard. Hell of a ride.

Sitting up was painful but possible. Patting his pockets hunting for his cigarettes he realised one more fact; he was all alone, accompanied only by his gun and his backpack, both of which were lying several feet from him on the pavement. Wherever this was - and on looking around all he could see was rearing concrete buildings, a sad, dirty grey gap of asphalt between them his current resting place - the others hadn’t made it to the same spot. He lit a cigarette, then shuffled over to the gun and stuffed it into his bag.

Didn’t do to be without it, after all, although wandering around with it in plain sight would get him arrested before you could say ‘what gun, officer?’

Or shot.

Snorting with amusement around the freshly lit smoke - wouldn’t it be ironic to escape the Illuminati and get blown away by some cop whose thoughts extended no further than petty theft and donuts - Kai groaned his way to his feet and stood, swaying, and wondered how the hell he should start looking for the others. Well, he was reluctant to use any of the magic Yoz had shown him; he’d try wandering around the city first, and when he got bored of that he’d give magic a try. If nothing else, that should at least bring Yoz out of the woodwork swearing about the stupidity of trying it alone....

Shouldering his bag and smiling at the comforting weight of the gun inside, he set off to search for the others. They must have come through pretty close together, right?

~*~

Dirk opened his eyes, and groaned.

Everything hurt. And he meant everything - even his hair ached. And it was dark. And--

What the fuck was that terrible smell?

Shuffling around - with yet more groaning and grumbling as every inch of his body yelled bloody murder in his mind - he managed to put everything together when his head crashed into a sheet of hard plastic, and a lid bumped up for a moment and let in a shaft of light before shutting it off again. Curled into a ball swearing at this newest indignity he now knew what he was in, if not exactly where he was.

Uncurling rather more cautiously this time he stretched his hand up, and pushed against the underside of the lid. A great creak and groan later and he was peering along an alleyway, holding the lid of the dumpster just high enough to let in light and air.

Looked quiet enough, so with a heave that had his bad knee yelping he shoved the lid back, letting it drop behind him with a crash. Couldn’t see anyone, so he grabbed the small backpack that he’d been given - sod the gun, it could stay buried in the stinking rubbish - and began to scramble out.

“Mr. Schlachter?”

...of course, he hadn’t checked behind the damn thing.

Trying to see where the voice was coming from he overbalanced on the lip of the bin and tipped over, landing on the hard concrete with a grunt. His shoulder joined his knee in sending a quite strenuous complaint to the management; lying in a heap of rubbish and smelling worse than the roadie’s bus after a long tour he decided that he really didn’t give a shit what happened next, he really truly didn’t. If the bloody Illuminati would offer him a shower and a set of clean clothes and the opportunity to sleep without being shot at--

“Mr. Schlachter, are you OK?”

Dirk twisted his head around to look up at the speaker. Burly, black suit, dark glasses. He grinned; the guy was a walking cliché. A Man In Black. A walking talking cliché that, he now noted with a sinking feeling and a rapidly fading grin, was pointing a gun at him.

Not on their side, then.

“No?” said Dirk, and found himself scooped up from the floor and bundled into the back of a van before he could say another word.

~*~

Henjo had fared no better. He’d come round in an alley, and hadn’t even had time to gather his scattered and aching wits before hard hands had grabbed him, bundling him into the back of a van and chaining his hands to the wall. He twisted and swore until a familiar chill wriggled along his spine, crawling up over his scalp and hissing in his ears. It was the same blackness that had been in his apartment, but here--

Two columns of the stuff seated themselves on the bench seat, one either side of him, and moulded themselves to the wall of the van; a third formed a pool around his feet, squirming around his ankles and seething restless around the floor as the van pulled smoothly away.

None of the three patches of darkness touched him, but there wasn’t much in it. They swayed close to his face, chittered and ground their tiny teeth in the multiple, drooling mouths, and reached out pseudopodia to caress the air mere millimetres from his skin. He supposed that they were acting as guards; one thing was for damn sure, he was going to sit very very still indeed if it meant that he could keep the revolting things from touching him.

He huddled against the wall, and shook.

~*~

Kai wandered as the day grew warmer, taking random twists and turns as streets presented themselves, sniffing the air every time he passed a bakery or a bar that was serving breakfast. He hadn’t thought, after the night he’d had, that it was possible for him to feel hungry; but whatever state of shock his mind was still in, his body was demanding sustenance. And soon.

At least he knew his wallet was in the small backpack over his shoulder; on their return to the house Yoz had insisted he throw a few essentials into his bag, and right now he was feeling very glad of the fact. OK then, one more turn and he’d stop at the next place--

A black van drove past him, stopped, and turned in the road.

Uh oh.

Whether it was the training he’d had from Yoz or a natural set of instincts he’d never realised he had he didn’t care. But something about that van was making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he really didn’t want whoever was in it to get a proper look at his face. He stepped up his pace, and wished he had ears like a cat so he could point them backwards to track the movement of the vehicle.

It growled past him, and the men in the front didn’t, from what he could see, look at him; but then, if he could look at them sideways then they could do the same, too. It was when the back half of the van passed him that he got the biggest jolt. Whatever was in there triggered every sense he had, and his reaction was instinctive.

He bolted, diving down the first narrow side street he saw. He had no idea what it was, but the feeling that had washed over him reminded him of nothing that he’d ever --

No. It did remind him of something. That horrible vampire cloud of darkness they’d confronted in Henjo’s apartment, and seen again last night as they crept away from the Rosicrucian House. He didn’t know exactly what it was - there’d been no time to ask Yoz or anyone who might know about such things, and he hadn’t thought to look it up in the library when he’d had chance - but it was bad. That much he felt in the core of his very bones.

He skidded around a corner, looked around himself, and raced into an even narrower alley; an engine was gunned behind him, tyres squealed, and he put his head down and ran. If they had a van full of that horrible stuff he’d die before he let them put him in there, whoever _they_ were.

Another turn, breath beginning to sob in his throat, and he made a mistake.

Dead end.

He swore, voice emerging as a high pitched whistle as he frantically scrambled from one side of the alley to another, scrabbling to escape like a rat in a trap. No way out. Perhaps--

He dropped to his knees and rummaged through his bag, pulling out the ugly snub nosed form of the submachine gun he’d been carrying all night. His mind was still running in circles squeaking, and he watched as his hands made the moves that had become automatic during their horrible race to escape; he wrapped the sling around his forearm and snapped a fresh clip into place. When they came, they’d find him not such an easy target.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself he knelt in the dirt and rubbish of the alley, training the muzzle of the gun on the alley mouth. He had another clip in his pocket, easy to reach. Provided, of course, they didn’t just kill him where he waited.

He heard the van stop, and low voices.

He sent out the strongest call his mind could form, and screamed for Yoz for all he was worth. Nothing.

And as the first shape clouded the light at the open end of the alley he swore - because you couldn’t chase away a cloud of darkness with bullets. They had him. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

~*~

Yoz was trotting along a quiet side street, enjoying the sense of being alone again. Her bag jolted comforting on her back, the familiar weight of it almost tempting her to think that she was on one of her routine walkabouts and not in any significant trouble at all.

Almost.

She was scanning the city, trying - without advertising her own presence - to pick up a hint of where her companions might have emerged. Jason’s machine might be good, but it had deposited the three of them in only approximately the right place - and she just had to hope it hadn’t been so lax as to have dropped them halfway through a wall or stuck in a pavement or right in front of a bus, or something equally trying. There would never be a substitute for the human mind when it came to magic, of that she was certain, and no amount of serious sounding papers from the Experimental Alchemy department would change her opinion. And speaking of which--

She almost ran straight into a wall when a squeal of mental static ripped across her forebrain, forming itself in the last second into a desperate scream of her name. There was only one person she knew of that was that talented and - she rubbed her hand across her eyes and swore until the little lights stopped flashing - that goddamn _clumsy_. If Kai was going to scream for help like that she was going to have to give him a few lessons - still, if nothing else every telepath in the city had just fallen over with a blinding headache. No bad thing.

It also meant that she knew exactly where he was - as, of course, did anybody looking for him; with any luck, she thought as she changed gear and broke into a run, part of her mind eyeing the parked cars for an easy one to steal, anybody looking for him with their mind had just collapsed with their brains dribbling out of their ears. But the way their luck had been going it seemed unlikely.

A streak of luck which seemed set to hold fast for a little longer. He was - she stopped long enough to break into a tatty old Peugeot that was unlikely to be missed for a while - on the other side of the sodding city. The chances of her getting there in time to actually do anything about whatever had made him scream were so remote as to be--

Another of those horrible cries ripped into her head, and this time she yelled in sympathy. Christ, the power he could put into a signal was unbelievable, and this time it wasn’t stopping. The horrible howl went on and on until she was thrashing the steering wheel with her fists and swearing aloud, temporarily so blinded by the pain that she couldn’t find a way to block it.

And then it stopped.

Slumped across the steering wheel she sucked in a series of breaths, each one gratefully received by lungs that had been squeezed too tight to breathe by the pain. Lifting her head she looked at herself in the rear view mirror; yeah, the whites of both eyes were indeed scarlet with tiny capillaries that had burst under the sudden spike of blood pressure. If she’d been much closer his pain may well have damaged her beyond repair - but that sort of power couldn’t be summoned just by fear alone. It had to be something _really_ drastic.

Grinding her teeth she started the car with a snap of her fingers and set off across the city. She didn’t dare look to see what was going on with her mind; for one, she still had a terrible headache and pain would show up like a beacon to any watchers, and for another if she was spotted she wasn’t sure she had the strength to defend herself right now.

She just hoped he was still alive.

~*~

Reaching the alley where the desperate scream had come from she was unsurprised to find it empty. There was no way he could have held off his attackers for the length of time it had taken her to get here.

Walking into the narrow gap between two buildings - being rather careful to scan the area first, no point in falling into the same trap that Kai had - she cursed under her breath when she reached the place Kai had fallen. Scrapes in the dirt, a rubbish bag kicked open and spilling its rank contents like guts across the floor, empty shell casings. And blood. Not much, but there had been a lot more; the tiny slices in the grubby concrete showed where diminutive mouths had greedily chewed at the floor to clear up the precious liquid that had been spilt. Which meant that he hadn’t been taken by humans at all, but that the Illuminati had set their pet cloud of darkness on him.

She placed the palm of her hand over one of the rapidly drying stains that were left, and sneaked out a tendril of her awareness; she should be able to find out--

The shock of what had happened slapped up her arm and threw her back against the wall, cradling her hand against her chest and too breathless even to swear. His personality had burned even the concrete on which he’d fallen; she had a momentary vision of him struggling with the cloud, firing bullets into it and doing everything he could to force it back with mind and muscles. He’d failed - as he’d known he would - but he’d fought so hard the enemy had almost had to kill him to take him captive. Against just about any other creature he would have been successful, and driven them away; but this avatar of Dark was so strong it had just had to hurt him - quite badly - until he had no option but to give in.

It was his terror of the beast that had sent his desperate cry slicing across the city to almost burn out her mind. One thing was for sure, at least one of those driving - a black van, she saw, this time sneaking that tendril from a sensible distance - had been completely mindblind. And her assessment hadn’t been far off; he’d killed one of the men following the cloud stone dead, just with the raw power of his terrified wail.

Good. One less to deal with.

Scrambling to her feet she paced the alley like a dog, searching for any hint of a mental scent that might tell her where he’d been taken. Nothing immediate, just a vague sense of direction, nothing that might indicate a destination. Taking a chance she dropped into a light trance, leaning on one of the walls and spreading thread thin lines of consciousness out over the city. This place was lousy with magic, boiling and seething with the sense of Enemy; they’d fallen right into one of the strongholds of the very group out to kill them all. Possibly, she mused while searching, it hadn’t been the smartest plan she’d ever had to bring them here. But this was where Dan was being held and they’d needed to throw the Illuminati off long enough to allow the Rosicrucians to regroup and they had certainly provided one hell of a distraction. If the eye of every Illuminati operative wasn’t firmly fixed on Nuremberg to watch the action she’d be very surprised.

Although right now an awful lot of watchers were lying down with a cold cloth on their heads, she saw with some amusement. Having Kai around to blind everyone within mind-watching distance could be a useful counterplot in the future, provided of course that by the time they needed that godawful shriek again she’d figured out a way to block him.

There. Found not only Dan but the others too, annoying as it was to discover that all of her companions had been picked up as easily as they had. And of course it had to be in - or, to be more precise, under - the one place the good citizens of Nuremburg wished that outsiders didn’t want to see, with all its dreadful associations with the past. Not their fault that the madman that had brought such destruction to their people had chosen the site so well and carefully - a juncture of the lines of power that surged through the ground, ethereal but strong - that even now they couldn’t bring themselves to destroy it. It had a brooding power all of its own, and now it was in use again.

Although backup would have been damn handy there was nobody within thirty miles of the bloody place that would be able - or willing - to put their heads in the Illuminati noose just to rescue a few itinerant rockstars who were wanted for murder.

Oh well.

Best have breakfast and come up with a plan to get them out all on her own then.

Thinking hard, she slunk away to fortify her body while wracking her mind for a solution. Ignoring, of course, the lurking possibility that there might not actually be one.

~*~

Daniel hung his head between his knees, and wondered how long he was going to have to sit here until they came to bring him out again. He didn’t want to leave the cell. In here it might be boring - and dark - but out there was terrifying. There were Things out there he had no name for, and people with blank faces and no emotion, no matter how much he screamed. And screamed and screamed and screamed until his throat tore and he couldn’t scream any more.

Eero was in a worse state than him, admittedly. They’d stopped taking him out when he’d curled up into a ball on his side and refused to uncurl for anything, just whimpering if anyone spoke to him; he hadn’t eaten a thing since they were captured, and it had taken all of Dan’s will and patience to get the kid to take a few sips of water. If he didn’t get out of here soon he was going to die.

Dan wondered if they’d take his body out, or leave it in here with him for the rats.

He should move, check on him, but he held still. His muscles still ached from the last session, so he kept his arms looped around his knees and his head down between them, thinking about drumming and running beats and fills through his mind until he could almost - almost - blot out the horrible reality of their captivity. And the slow, painful demise of the bright kid who had been so damn delighted to be asked to come on tour with them that his eyes had sparkled and--

The sound of the cell door being unlocked made Dan’s head jerk up, eyes wide. Eero moaned faintly, curling up even tighter on himself, the chain that held him to the wall clinking with the slight movement.

Dan gripped his own chain in his fists. It was too soon, he couldn’t go yet. Too soon!

But he wasn’t taken out. More of the blank faced minions dragged another figure in, shackling it with dreadful efficiency to the wall and marching out, slamming the steel door behind them and plunging the cell into darkness again. It was a thick dark, not just an absence of light; it whispered, this dark, touched you in places that made you shiver with fear. It suggested awful things, and Eero was crying again; Dan felt an irrational urge soar upwards within him to beat the kid until he shut up.

He pushed it down, and swung blindly to face the new occupant of the cell. They were lying in a heap, the faint spark of light seeping under the door providing enough illumination to his dark-adapted eyes to show him gross shapes but no detail. Not until the person stopped shaking and uncurled a bit more, anyway.

A voice began to mutter curses, and Dan’s eyebrows shot up as he recognised it.

“Dirk?”

His own voice must be wrecked, because his friend didn’t recognise it. Dirk froze, the proximity of the sound telling him that he was very close to someone - and that someone, when they moved with a rattle of their chain, sounded a hell of a lot bigger than him.

“Dirk! Please man, it’s me, Daniel--”

Dirk unrolled, squinting into the breathing blackness and searching for something familiar. The voice was hoarse and cracked, but as it babbled on he realised that yes, it was familiar and it could be Dan. Although what could make their quiet, cheerful drummer sound this desperate and worn he dreaded to think, although he had an awful suspicion that he was going to find out.

He yelped when a hand touched his ankle, then strong arms enfolded him in a rough bear hug and yes, it was definitely Daniel; the way he moved, even the way his skin smelled - under the scents of misery and old sweat and fear - as familiar to him as breathing. Daniel. They’d found him.

They clung to each other in the darkness, and wept.

~*~

Something warm.

In his chest.

Yes.

Something warm in his chest and he thinks he’s going to live.

Voices now. Low rumble, masculine voices, at least two of them tight with tension, a third just a low growl, inflectionless. A fourth, light and feathery but still male; he doesn’t recognise any of them but they seem to know what they’re talking about, so maybe he can go back to sleep.

No he can’t. The warmth is building, becoming uncomfortable. Hot, even.

It gets hotter, and all of a sudden his heart is leaping in his chest because _oh shit, they’re burning me from the inside please stop IT HURTS!_

Kai came awake with a roar, yanking at the straps that tied wrists and ankles to the table. A man stepped back, rubbing his hands, and he recognised that arrogance of movement that could mean only one thing: Magus.

“You should be grateful,” said that light, feathery voice from behind his right shoulder. “You were almost dead. Master Greenlefe brought you back.”

Kai dropped back to the table, panting. His chest still burned; he’d be a damn sight more grateful when the pain subsided. And they unshackled him. Let him go. Stuff like that.

The Magus circled him, watching with eyes of such a pale grey that when the light caught them they appeared almost white, or perhaps silvered; his hair was close cropped and blonde, and overall he moved like a ghost, a washed out spectre that gave him the creeps. He approached, and Kai fought the straps again; whatever else was going to happen to him he did not want that skinny, wan creature to put its hands on him.

The pallid eyes filled with a creamy look of delight at Kai’s fear, and he stopped.

“This is the one,” he said, his voice deeper than Kai would have thought possible. Either that narrow chest had more resonance than it looked like it was capable of having, or the sick bastard was doing something to his voice to make it appear more imposing. No matter which it was, that voice was deep and rich and he was utterly fucking terrified of it.

That breathy voice came again, and Kai twisted in his bonds to try and get a look at the speaker. This one, when he walked around the table, seemed unremarkable; the sort of face and form you saw a thousand times a day on any city street. Suit, but not over smart; utterly ordinary, in fact.

“You have been in close contact with the Magus Yolanda, haven’t you?” asked the breathy voice, and Kai glared into the eyes of the speaker.

It was at that point that he started to scream in earnest.

~*~

When the door was unlocked again Eero moaned and tucked himself tighter into the angle between wall and floor, shaking so hard now that his chain made a constant, terrified chittering noise under the harsher sounds of movement.

One more person was dragged into the room, dumped on the floor and chained up before the heavy footfalls of the troops faded away down the corridor, the clang of the door seeming to echo around the cell for an age before it, too, passed into silence.

Dirk knew who it was before the figure spoke, and shuffled across to touch his friend. Henjo flinched under the touch, breathing harsh in the darkness; Dirk tugged at him, pulled him until he could get both arms around him, then rocked him while he trembled. Overwhelmed by whatever had been happening to him he was incapable of speech for long enough that his friends were really beginning to worry about him. He moaned and ground his teeth, and Dan caught the flicker of movement that was Dirk’s desperate glance over his shoulder at him.

“Henjo?” he said, crawling as close as he could to the pair, hissing with frustration as the chain pulled him up short, “Hen. It’s me,” he croaked, trying to clear the rough congestion in his throat past the lump clogging his chest. “It’s Dan. You found me.”

Henjo began to uncurl, and put his chin on Dirk’s shoulder. “Dan?”

“Yeah.”

“We found you.”

“Yeah.”

Sighing deeply with relief he slumped against Dirk, pushing his face into his chest for comfort then pulling back a little, shaking his head.

“Jesus Dirk,” he said, his voice beginning to strengthen slightly. “You stink. The fuck have you been up to?”

The laughter that followed may have been a trifle strained, somewhat closer to hysteria than any of them wanted to think about, but it chased away the thick coils of terror for a little while.

~*~

The man’s eyes were black from edge to edge. His face was blank, emotionless, and those horrible eyes scanned across Kai’s body in such a way that his skin crawled, trying to escape from that cold gaze. Goosebumps pebbled his flesh, and he realised for the first time that he was shirtless. They’d left his trousers and boots on - thankfully, he’d be going insane with fear right now if he had to face this scrutiny naked.

Perhaps they were saving it for later, and the mere thought almost had him begging for mercy.

He fought the straps again, hearing the muscles and tendons in his arm creak as he thrashed. The emotionless man cocked his head and watched, waiting until Kai stilled once more before speaking.

“The Magus Yolanda is our enemy,” he said, that breathy voice emerging from the barrel chest with as much incongruity as the deep, rolling voice of the other Magus, “and you will tell us what she plans.”

Kai bared his teeth.

“I don’t know what she’s planning. And even if I did know I wouldn’t tell you - damn _shit!_ ”

The Magus had touched his knee. A light touch, the pressure barely felt through the leather, but snaking up from that casual brush against him were red hot tendrils of pain, agony slicing up his side and making his heart jump and his spine arch with the hurt. The man with the black eyes waited for the writhing and swearing to stop, then spoke again.

“You will tell us.”

This touch was higher, just where the the big thigh muscle attaches above the knee. Kai screamed and twisted, choking on his own bile as his stomach rebelled against the anguish inflicted by the wraith. He turned as much as he could and spat, throat burning, and glared at the other Magus. What had he called him? Greenlefe. Unlikely to be his real name but Yoz had told him that names had power--

“Master Greenlefe,” he gasped, breath hitching in thick, burning pants, “you can tell a lie. I’m not lying. Tell him I’m telling the truth!”

Greenlefe shrugged, turned a shoulder to Kai and shot him a sideways gaze through long, light brown lashes.

“She could have taught you to mask,” he said.

“She hasn’t, I swear!”

“You will tell us,” said the breathy voice, and Kai didn’t even bother to answer, just braced himself for the pain. And when it came - a little further up - and he screamed once more, arching and gurgling, he wondered just how it was going to feel when the Mage reached his balls.

~*~

“Where’s Kai?” asked Dan.

“No idea,” said Dirk.

“Oh. How’d you guys end up here, anyway?”

“Yoz,” sighed Henjo, and Dan grunted as though that made perfect sense to him.

“So where’s Yoz?”

“Don’t know,” replied Dirk, and brought Dan up to date with everything that had happened since the show with Iron Saviour in Hamburg. It didn’t seem possible that it had been a mere four days - or so, Dirk had got a little turned around - ago. So much had happened, so much pain and destruction--

“Do you think she’ll come to get us?” asked Dan, and his voice was low. “Eero can’t take much more. I think he’s dying.”

The three men looked across at the silent form curled up in the corner, mute now except for the odd outburst of shivering that would set his chains rattling and whispering against each other in the darkness. Dan shook his head, and Henjo gripped his hand tight. The three had managed to huddle together, Dan and Henjo at the farthest extent of their chains, clustered around Dirk at their centre.

“She’ll come,” said Dirk, “I know she will.”

Dan rested his head on Dirk’s shoulder and sighed, a bone deep almost-groan of pain and fear and utter, despairing misery.

“Then I hope she comes soon,” he said. “Or we’re all dead.”

~*~

Kai was blind, and falling. He’d been right; when Greenlefe had touched his balls he’d thought he was going to die with the pain. Only it turned out that you didn’t die from pain, you just wanted to die; but all your higher mental functions did kind of short out. A bit. Because when your entire central nervous system is on fire who needs delicate functions like sight and hearing?

Hearing returned first, in fact. His own breath rasping in and out of his chest, his vocal chords closing on tiny whimpers on the exhale. Voices surrounding him, the deep rumble of the Magus and the higher, breathy whispering of the man with the black eyes. They seemed to be arguing.

As long as they weren’t hurting him they could dance the fucking macarena in pink tutus for all Kai cared.

Light behind his eyelids, light that he knew would burn when he opened his eyes. Might as well keep them shut, then; there was nothing out there that he wanted to see anyway. He shivered; the air wasn’t especially cool, but his body was overloaded with stress chemicals and he had no doubt that he was sliding into a state of shock, heart racing, clammy skin and tingling in all his extremities. He could feel tears streaking his cheeks, sweat drying sticky on his skin. His leathers clung to him cold, his fear sending its own sour odour up to tickle his nostrils with the evidence of his perceived cowardice - he was sure that Real Men didn’t scream like he had. He was just grateful that he hadn’t completely lost control when that sadistic bastard touched him, but he also had no doubt that it wouldn’t take many more of those burning contacts to achieve that final, awful humiliation.

“Take Mr. Hansen to a room where he can think about what has occurred here today,” said the emotionless creature that had listened to him howl without so much as a flicker, “and then bring him back here at midnight. Perhaps seeing his friends under the touch of Master Greenlefe will refresh his memory.”

Kai opened his eyes, looking straight into the swirling dead black gaze that hung over his face, the pale visage twisted a little to one side to get a clearer look at him. He bared his teeth, and had the minor satisfaction of seeing the creature rear back at this evidence - however small - that he was not yet completely broken.

“I have told you everything. And if your Magus can’t tell that I’m telling the truth then he’s not as good as he thinks he fucking is.”

Greenlefe growled from the other side of the room, a threatening rumble.

“You will pay for that, later.”

“It’s true and you know it,” said Kai, too exhausted to fight as four black-jumpsuited guards approached and began to unstrap him. He watched them, still feeling that odd sense of calm; he had, on occasion, wondered how he would ever cope with being tortured. Well, now he knew. And although he had no doubt he’d be having hysterics later, right now...well, right now he was just feeling as thin as a wisp of cloud, so lacking substance that a breeze could carry him away. He wondered why they couldn’t see the truth; what had been done to him had left him an open book to any who knew how to read it, and they just hadn’t bothered. Or maybe they _didn’t_ know how, and Yoz was even more unusual than she seemed.

Faceplates that didn’t reflect him strengthened that feeling of unreality. Couldn’t see through them, and they didn’t throw enough light back for him to see how he looked. Was his face defiant or foolish, crumpled or brave?

Like it mattered.

Muscles sighed with relief when he could pull his feet and hands from the thick leather straps, and he sat up and rubbed his wrists, still staring at the dead eyed man who hadn’t spoken another word. Maybe he could see what he really was, if he just reached out a little bit of his shine....

Whether it was the chemicals still sloshing around his system or the fact that the prospect of more torture had concentrated his mind he couldn’t tell, but he was able to slip into his Other sight with ease for the very first time. And what he saw had him releasing a long sigh, not wholly surprised by what he saw but unable to summon up any emotion other than a sort of vague sense of dread. If he’d seen before that bastard had touched him he had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that he would have messed himself. The husk that stood before him was filled with--

“You aren’t human,” he said. The man tipped his head to one side and watched him in silence. “You were human,” he added, “but now you’re a shell. You let the Dark in, didn’t you?”

Nothing, and Kai let the blank figures of the guards - all the same height, all hidden beneath the same black jumpsuits and faceplates and helmets - pull him down from the table and steady him until he could stand on his own. To his surprise they passed his shirt and jacket back; he dressed, then turned to the dark eyed one again before they could take him away.

“What made you let the Dark in?”

And for the first time the mouth stretched in a tiny smile.

“You’ll find out,” he said, “because it’s going to happen to you, too.”

~*~

The cell they took him to was comfortable, by cell standards. No shower, but a bucket of hot water and a cloth waited for him; soap and a toothbrush laid on a small shelf by the side of the narrow cot. There was another bucket with a lid on it that was obviously in lieu of a toilet, and a table at the end of the cot had a plastic bottle of water on it. The cot was equipped with a pillow and a blanket, and that was it.

It reminded him rather of the army barracks where he’d done his national service, and the comparison comforted him a little. Distracted him from the prospect of being tortured and then having his personality boiled away from the inside out, anyway. A little bit.

Past caring whether anyone was going to walk in on him Kai stripped, washing himself thoroughly. A shower would have been better, but since he didn’t think he’d ever get rid of the sense of violation that the rogue Mage had left him with then he supposed it didn’t matter, really. Eyeing the pile of dirty clothes next to the bucket he wondered what the fuck he was going to do; he could sponge out the leathers, he supposed. Turning to grab the thin towel that had been left for him he caught sight of his bag, scooted under the bed; at least he’d have clean underwear.

The discovery that his gun and ammunition had been removed didn’t surprise him as much as the fact that his cigarettes were still there.

He cleaned his trousers as best he could, hung them over the end of the cot to dry out and sat there in clean underwear, staring at the wall and smoking. All the comforts of home, really.

Time passed, and Kai was bored. He drank some water to soothe his throat, smoked, wondered how long his cigarette supply would last, found a pen in the bottom of his backpack and doodled on the walls for a while. Obscene sketches of sexual organs and grossly out of proportion women and snide little comments about the Illuminati blossomed on the wall of his cell, and he wondered if he’d get into trouble for them. Then decided he was in so much trouble anyway that it didn’t matter, and drew some more.

That got boring after a while too.

His trousers were dry, so he put them back on.

Smoked a bit more.

Wondered where the others were.

And just as he was even beginning to contemplate if he could summon up enough of an erection to jerk off - guaranteed to help him sleep - someone knocked on his door. He stared for a second, blinking in surprise. There had to be a reason why someone would knock on a cell door, right? Not like they weren’t on the outside and couldn’t just unlock it and walk in, yes?

He couldn’t resist the opportunity to mess with somebody’s head.

“Go away.”

“We need to talk.”

Oh, rumbly voiced torturer being all polite now, eh?

“Fuck off.”

“Please.”

OK, he was curious now. He sat back on the cot, waved his hand in an airy gesture and smiled. “Come,” he said, for all the world as though this were a grand suite and the Magus no more than a bellhop.

The door unlocked and was pushed open, the slender figure of the pale Magus slipping through the gap. He left the door ajar, although the guard that showed himself briefly in the open crack made very sure that Kai abandoned any hopes of just shoving the scrawny figure out of the way and making a run for it. That big a gun really shortened the argument.

The Magus paced the small room, eyeing Kai with those flat, dead eyes; in his turn Kai eyed him right back, never losing the small smile or stopping the smoking of his cigarette. He was in charge here, he could feel it in the air. Why, he had no clue; still make the most of the opportunities Lady Luck tosses you, that was his motto. And after what this bastard had done to him back in that horrible interrogation room he intended to make his life just as miserable as he could.

“So? What did you want? I’m a busy man, you know.”

Greenlefe blinked at him, then made a small hissing sound. “Of course you are. We need to talk--”

“You said that already. What about? And no,” Kai added as the other man made to walk across the room toward him, “no closer.”

The Mage ignored him, and kept coming until he was standing beside the cot. Kai cocked his head to look up at him; this getting-in-someone’s-face was an old trick, a way to intimidate. And he didn’t care how much pain this bastard could inflict, you could only be intimidated if you let yourself be.

So he smirked up, shrugged, and managed not to flinch when he brushed fingertips across Kai’s knee.

“You _are_ good,” muttered the Mage, and to Kai’s total astonishment sat himself on the end of the cot. He tipped his head, watching Kai through half closed eyes. “You are powerful.”

“So Yoz says.”

“She is...clever.”

Kai snorted, and flicked his cigarette end toward the door.

“If you allied yourself with us I could teach you much.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, thanks.”

“What do you want?”

“To play. To write and perform my music... that’s all.”

“All? Fame and fortune? Glory and admiration?”

Kai shrugged. “Got as much of that as I can handle, thanks.”

“The world is changing.”

“The world is always changing.”

Greenlefe rubbed the tips of his long fingers against the other palm, watching Kai’s every breath carefully. It was like a game of chess, but a game where the loser forfeited his soul. And personality and everything else to the creeping Dark, the contemplation of which was not something that Kai relished.

“You could,” said the Mage, “be one of the powerful ones in the new order, you know.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Here it comes. Go on, what do I have to do? Hand over my friends, sell my soul?”

The other man shrugged, shaking his head then lowering it to hide the smile that crept across his sparse, bony features. “Nothing like that. Just...put a few messages in your lyrics. Be visible in supporting a few causes.”

“And for that I get...?”

“To live. And not become an avatar for the Dark.”

An itch, just the barest whisper of grit along his palms but Kai recognised it immediately - Greenlefe was lying. What they really had planned for him couldn’t be good, but now he knew it; then again, now that he did know it maybe he could manipulate them right back. He lit another cigarette, puffing it to life and eyeing the Magus with some care. He tried his Sight again, and to his surprise found he could now work it while his eyes were open.

This guy was...nothing. He had a heck of an aura, true, but nothing like the sort of power he’d felt around Yoz - or even Beorn, come to that. This man was very small fry, of that he was sure. He probably wasn’t even really a Mage, and he reminded himself to check with Yoz on the exact definition of the term.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“So. If I agree you let me and my friends go?”

“With a full pardon. You can go back to your lives and your music and all you will have to do - and it really is such a small thing - is just add a few words here and there to your lyrics. One of our operatives will contact you when we have something you need to do. Which I’m sure won’t be very often. And you will become more powerful than you ever dreamed....”

The guy was crazy, he decided. He’d gone off into a little dream world of his own while Kai watched, presumably thinking about the great power he was going to amass when he brought Kai - and his shine, he supposed - over to their side.

“And I won’t have to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not.”

That itch again. Another lie.

He nodded, assuming a thoughtful expression. “And Yoz?”

Greenlefe shrugged. “She is nothing. A mere woman.” Itch itch. Liar. “Her power is misdirection and illusion, for the most part.”

Kai almost laughed. Not only was this guy a sadist he was stupid, too. If he couldn’t tell real power when he saw it then he, Kai, had absolutely no sympathy at all for whatever was going to happen to him; Yoz would come for them, that he knew, and all he had to do was string this lot along until she arrived. And then feed her enough power to wipe them from the fucking map, if he possibly could.

He hated bullies. And that was what these people were, he decided as he listened to Greenlefe wax lyrical about the joys of the New World Order, the elimination of chaos and the end of the planet’s problems. Well, the end for a select group. The rest of the planet’s population would be either put to death or used as slave labour but that was fine, you see, because that was their proper destiny. The Dark was Order against Chaos. Everybody had their place, and Greenlefe’s was, as one might imagine, right on the very top. And if everybody else’s lot was considerably worse, well, that was just too damn bad. It was how things were Meant To Be, after all....

Kai had had enough of this.

“I’m tired. If you could give me some time to consider everything you’ve said?”

“Of course,” enthused the Magus, who for once actually had a little colour in his cheeks, so zealous was he. “I shall arrange for food to be sent too. And to your friends.”

“Are they OK?”

“They are...safe.”

“Oh. Good.”

“The Master will call you to his study for a more in depth discussion once you have eaten. I hope to be there and to cement our long and illustrious friendship....”

He shook hands with Kai, and for a moment - a very brief flash - Kai saw what the little shit actually intended to do with him. He was going to use him to bolster his power, a living battery, defeat the Dark and be the ruler of the world. It all got a little fuzzy after that, but there were definite plans involving a lot of women, pretty young boys and blood.

Kai resisted the urge to wipe his hand on the leg of his leathers as the Mage left, and waited for the door to close before allowing his own expression to become a sneer.

“Cunt,” he muttered at one of his doodles, and settled back to wait.

~*~

While Kai was enjoying a simple but filling meal in his small cell, Henjo, Dirk and Dan were staring at a bowl on a metal tray that had been shoved through the door. Dan leaned against the wall and watched his friends scrabble in the dark, pulling it toward them.

Henjo dipped his finger in and sniffed it, then snorted in disgust.

“The fuck is this, then?”

Dan snorted, sounding tired. “They told me it’s a carbohydrate slurry optimised for the human digestive system. Minimises waste, they said. It does the job - so if you’re hungry I’d eat. They’ll be back to take away what you haven’t eaten soon. Then they’ll leave bottles of water.”

Henjo sucked his finger, then spat with a curse. “It’s foul!”

Dan shrugged.

“If Yoz doesn’t come for us soon we’re all dead anyway,” he said, and his tone was resigned. Dirk and Henjo exchanged glances in the darkness; four days, and Dan was ready to give up.

They just hoped that whatever she was doing, Yoz was doing it fast.

~*~

The object of their concern was making her way through the rainswept city, heading for the place they were being held. She had to travel on foot; the plan she’d come up with was complicated, and involved the handling of certain substances she normally wouldn’t have gone near with a twenty metre cattle prod. However, desperate times required desperate measures, and so she’d had to just get on with it.

The cover of darkness was much appreciated. It meant that she could travel unnoticed, the hoody she’d slipped on under the leather pulled up so that as long as she kept her head down there was no chance of anyone getting a look at her face, even in the glow of the streetlamps.

She stumbled occasionally, having to watch her feet so that she could be sure that she was still managing to put one in front of the other, and muttered as she walked.

People gave this odd creature a wide berth, something about her sending a chill up their spines as she made her way - to all intents and purposes just another drunk - toward the one tourist attraction the people of Nuremburg heartily wished would just fall into ruin and become part of a past that haunted them all. She shook herself, forcing her body to obey the commands of her mind; the pain was getting worse, and if she didn’t focus - dammit! - the Illuminati would spot her a mile away and all the careful planning would go to waste.

And she’d be dead, and that would suck too.

Slipping into the darkness of an alley she paused, crouching in the shadow of a dumpster to catch her breath. It was a good job she was in good shape, or the sheer physical strain of what she was attempting to do would have flattened her by now.

She felt squirming under her skin, and fought her way back to her feet. No time to rest, must keep moving.

Moving with as much stealth and silence as she could muster she slunk up to the surrounding fence, pulling a set of wire cutters from her pocket and making a few clumsy cuts. Normally she would have just touched it and voila, the fence would have unraveled to let her in but no, not now. She had to do it the old fashioned way, and she swore under her breath as her clumsy fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar bulk of the tool in her hand.

Through the fence, and only another few hundred yards to go. She squatted in a patch of shadow and breathed deep, calming her system and ordering it as best she could for the final approach. Now was not the time to get spotted by a sharp eyed operative with a rifle.

Done, and with her body obeying her commands almost as swiftly as usual she ghosted up to the walls, blending herself with them and passing right under the noses of half a dozen sentries. She could thank Kai for that; all but the mindblind were still struggling with the after-effects of his colossal howl when he’d been captured earlier that day.

And the mindblind were easy to fool.

Glancing up at the faded sign over her chosen entrance she snorted, swiping the back of her hand across the slow trickle of blood the action brought from her nose.

“Tradesman’s entrance my arse,” she muttered, and with a clink of a lockpick she was inside.

The door swung shut behind her, and she shuffled off to find her friends.

~*~

Dan had been right. The blank faced soldiers came and took the bowl away, leaving four bottles of water in its place; Dirk had made to trip one of them, hoping to perhaps grab keys from his belt, get them out - at least be seen to put up some sort of defence, not merely crouch and cower in the dark. Just sitting there and meekly accepting what was being done to them seemed so wrong, somehow. At least they should try and fight back.

He changed his mind a moment later. Another guard shouldered his way into the cell, poking at Dirk with a long, slender wand; the tip was bulbous, glowing with some sort of energy, and when he was close enough the guard ground the glowing end into Dirk’s stomach and held it there while he screamed and writhed on the floor, twisting in the agony that the weapon induced all through his nervous system. The man pulled the stick back, watching his prey twitch and jerk on the floor for a moment before cocking his head and doing it again.

This time when he pulled the devilish creation away Dirk lay silent, a faint shuddering all through his muscles the only sign that he still lived.

Then they left the bottles of water, and slammed shut the door of the cell.

Henjo crawled across to Dirk and touched his shoulder, running his hands across him to see if he could feel any obvious injuries. His friend groaned, rolled on his side and curled into a ball. Dan’s voice drifted to them through the busy dark.

“Eero fought them at first. And they hit him with those things and he still fought them because he was so afraid - so they put him in a room and they hit him again and again until he passed out, and then they waited for him to wake up and then they did it again until he was crouching in a corner howling like an animal.” Dan’s voice was thick with grief. “And they made me watch. And then they told me what they were going to do with us, after.”

The others stared at him, one shocked, one pained, and then they shifted their gazes to look at Eero.

“For fuck’s sake Yoz, hurry,” moaned Dirk. Henjo couldn’t help but agree.

~*~

They came for them shortly afterward, dragging Dirk to his feet and threatening Dan and Henjo with the stinging poles until they both rose and stood against the wall, allowing themselves to be unchained without a fight. Henjo turned as they were hustled out, and pointed at the shivering heap in the corner.

“What about him?”

The faceplate tilted as the soldier considered the question.

“He’s dying,” came the abrupt reply. “He stays here.”

And with that they were led away, the cell door clanging shut behind them, cutting off all access to their suffering friend.

~*~

When Kai saw the three men he ran to them, skidding to a halt when one of the soldiers raised the swirling, buzzing ball of energy on the end of the wand toward him in a threatening gesture. He raised his hands, looked outraged; without taking his eye from the end of the weapon he spoke loudly to the man standing behind him in the room, watching the proceedings with no expression on his broad, ordinary face.

“You said they wouldn’t be harmed,” he snarled, usually gentle brown eyes full of anger. The three just stared, too tired and heartsick to do anything more. The watcher in the back of the room flicked his hand, and the soldiers withdrew without a word.

They were alone in the room, the four captives, the blank faced watcher and one more, a pale, thin creature slouching in a chair at the end of the long, oval table. The room they were in resembled nothing more than a fancy conference suite; thick, neutral coloured carpet, wood paneled walls, that long oval gleaming in the centre with smart, modern chairs ranged around it.

It was an incongruous contrast to the cold, primitive cell that they had just emerged from, and Henjo ground his teeth as he felt the anger begin to stir within him again. Kai appeared to feel it, and touched his arm; _not now_ , his expression seemed to say.

Henjo dropped his gaze, and held his peace.

“Gentlemen, please take a seat,” boomed a deep, imposing voice.

Dirk and Henjo had to look twice before they could believe where such a basso rumble was coming from. The almost albino form of the other man bared his teeth at them in a strange, humourless smile; it had indeed come from him, although it didn’t seem possible.

Dan took a seat on one side of the oval and stared at the man, anger well shielded in his tight expression. “Master Reynold Greenlefe,” he said to the others. Kai looked at him, surprised.

“You know him?”

Dan snorted. “Has he done the touching thing to you yet? The one where he makes you burn from the inside.”

The pale Magus looked pleased, and examined his pallid fingernails. “I only make you _feel_ as though you are on fire. It’s all a matter of knowing how to get hold of the major nerve bundles and twist.”

“Gentlemen, be seated,” breathed the other man, speaking for the first time. Dirk’s head snapped up, and he stared hard; Henjo asked him in an undertone what was wrong, but he just shook his head and slid into the seat in front of him, at the point of the oval. Henjo sat next to him, and Kai placed himself between Dan and Dirk.

“Hands before you on the table,” said the lighter voice, and with some nervously exchanged glances the four men did so.

The tension in the room crackled, the air thick as treacle with unspoken thoughts, fear, and dreadful anticipation. The two men at the far end of the room leaned forward, the pale Magus licking his lips and wearing an look of fearful expectancy; it soon became clear what he was so afraid of seeing - and yet welcomed, in a strange way - as a dark blob of utter blackness oozed from the pores of the wooden table and coiled itself into a squat column. Henjo made to look under it, but was stopped by a short hiss; the four sat as still as they could, watching the swirling ooze until it settled into a more familiar shape.

A cone, whose sides flickered through all the shades of the rainbow before solidifying into a light coloured representation of a stone pyramid. Odd enough, but the next act made all of them lean back with an indrawn whoosh of breath; four eyes, one on each side of the shape near the apex, blinked open and regarded them coolly.

These eyes were wet, shiny, black from edge to edge - and undeniably alive and aware.

“You see before us,” rumbled the Mage, “the living representation of our Order. The all seeing, never closing eye atop the symbol of wisdom.”

Oily, translucent tears began to spill from the watching eyes, sliding down the solid sides of the shape and pooling on the rich wood of the conference table. The expressionless man licked his lips, and swayed forward to take a step, halting himself before the movement really started.

“We are Moriah’s wind, the children of the Fourth Horseman - who is Death,” that incongruously deep voice growled on, “we bring the cleansing wind that will sweep across the surface of this poor benighted world, clearing the old, the useless, the past before us and bringing the new. We herald an age of reason, an age of Order to defeat the Chaos that has gone before. Join with us, friends, or be sucked into the outer darkness to howl away your loneliness for all eternity. We come on the wings of destiny, and to stand against us is to be consigned to the filth and soil of the inglorious past.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head back and hooding his eyes. “We have infiltrated every level of society, every position of power on the planet belongs to us; one word, and each structure that has squalled like a child since the beginning of this poor excuse for a civilisation will fall to us - to be rebuilt in the image of our Order. We control the direction of events, we guide and we steer toward the day that is coming, the day of Judgment for the puling masses, the day that reason triumphs over all. Be with us on that day, and stand amongst the most exalted of men!”

The Mage let the sound of his voice vibrate into silence, and looked pleased with himself.

“Bullshit,” snapped Henjo, and Kai tucked his chin into his chest to hide the grin that flickered around the corners of his mouth. Henjo was tired and angry, and had taken about all he was going to from this crowd of lying, sadistic bastards.

“You would be wise not to anger us,” said the other man, now standing with his hands on the Mage’s shoulders, flexing his fingers against the sparse flesh until the skin over his knuckles whitened with tension.

Henjo noticed with a shudder that the eyes on the pyramid now seemed to be fixed firmly on him, and he stared at the pair of men at the other end of the table instead. His own brows lifted as he realised, for the first time, that the eyes of the ordinary man behind the insane magician were the same liquid black as the ones staring at him with evil intent from the top of the pyramid; that same rolling nothingness, the glossy surface of the eye reflecting only the gleam that skimmed the wet boundary to be thrown back unchanged. Any light falling into those cold globes was swallowed, eaten whole, and extinguished in the dark. Just as they would be, promised the dead gaze.

“And if we choose not to join with you?” asked Kai, staying calm. The light warmth of his voice contrasted starkly with the chill coming from the other two; he sounded all too human, and lacked the power in his speech to drive away the horrors standing right in front of them.

“They make us like them,” said Dirk, never taking his eyes from the quiet man, “agents of the Dark. Dead things that walk and talk and pretend to be alive. Soulless ones.”

The Magus smiled.

“Perhaps we can persuade you of the effectiveness of our cause,” he said, that deep, rich roll seducing their attention away from Dirk’s dread prophecy.

“Doubt it,” snapped Henjo, glaring.

Greenlefe shrugged, then snapped his fingers. Two of the blank faced soldiers crashed through the door, supporting a dangling, exhausted form that twitched between them; they could hear the person’s breath whistling in their throat, and winced for the groan of pain when they were tossed onto the table like a bag of rubbish, head impacting the wood hard and limbs flopping loose jointed to sprawl. The person jerked, fingers scrabbling broken nails uselessly on the shiny surface of the table for a second before sagging, limp.

Dirk spotted inked swirls on the slack hands, and swore under his breath.

“If we can do this to one who purports to carry such power,” hissed the servant of the Dark, “what do you think we are capable of doing to you?”

The woman turned on her side and groaned, her face swollen and bruised, blood marking the edges of her mouth and crusting below her ears. She tried to push herself up, then collapsed with a thump and stopped moving. They had to stare for a horribly long time before they saw a convulsive heave of her back as she took a breath, and then another. She was alive, but for how long none of them wanted to guess.

“Shit,” said Kai, and the others had to agree.

It was Yoz.

 _~TBC~_


	6. Damn The Machine

_****_

Damn The Machine

 

Still laying on her side where she’d rolled after being dumped so unceremoniously, Yoz cracked her eyes open and regarded her boys. They all looked horrified, except for Kai; he’d narrowed his eyes at her and was staring hard, trying to see if her suffering was real or illusory. She could hear his thoughts, and risked a quick exchange with him; after all, the Illuminati in the room were so terribly pleased with themselves that they weren’t paying attention. Big mistake. Never underestimate a Magus with a high risk tolerance.

 _What are you up to?_ Kai was thinking as he looked at her. She let out a heartfelt groan, dropping her head to thump on the table as a distraction.

 _Look like you’re upset, or at least surprised. And for fuck’s sake keep them talking for a bit._

Dirk was on his feet, staring at her and clenching his fingers so hard that his nails were beginning to take the varnish off the surface of the table. Kai grabbed his arm, no doubt thinking that his friend was about to charge off and do something heroic that would get him hurt, killed, or just hollowed out for the horrible darkness. None of those options sounded too great, and although Kai had no idea what was happening he wasn’t about to let his friend screw anything up by charging in.

Dirk shook him off and jumped onto the table, approaching the suffering Magus on his knees, swearing under his breath as he got a proper look at her. Carefully, he pulled Yoz to him and lifted her until she was draped across his lap, cradled in his arms. She rolled bloodshot eyes up to meet his gaze, and to his astonishment she winked at him; he found it hard to believe that, as awful as she looked, she could still retain even a vestige of her usual humour.

Kai was ranting, shouting at the blank faced minion of the Dark and his pet Mage, both of whom were watching Yoz with some suspicion. Henjo and Dan were right behind him, faces pale but determined, backing up his anger to the hilt; he got in their faces, shouting and yelling and waving his arms, never giving them a instant to think or to look at her any more closely. Violence hovered, and for the moment all attention was away from the Magus on the table.

Her lips moved, and Dirk leaned down to try and hear her whispered words. His hair hid her face from them, and she smiled under the fall of it.

“You big softy,” she murmured, and he tried to smile back at her. It was hard, though; he would have no difficulty at all in believing that she was about to pass away right there in his arms.

“What is it, Yoz?” he asked, keeping his voice as low as hers, cradling her closer to his chest. He could feel her pulse, thready and quick, and smell something sour and acidic on her breath, hear in the rasping how hard she was having to labour to breathe. She felt hot to the touch, too, despite her shivering; even through the several layers she was wearing she was burning in his arms, her face lined with angry red tracks that looked like infection.

The wickedness in her mismatched gaze was as clear as ever, though, and he finally had to fight down a smile. Whatever she’d done to herself was hurting her - she couldn’t hide that - but she wasn’t here by accident. It might have been a rather drastic plan, but a plan it did indeed seem to be - and did Yoz ever have any plans that didn’t veer toward the melodramatic?

“Prop me up,” she said, “so I can see them. Gently, mind. Hurts.”

“Hurts?”

“Like a mofo. Now, Dirk. And get the jacket off me, quick.”

He shuffled her around in his arms, alarmed at the fact she seemed to weigh so little; it felt as though he held an armful of bones, edgy and sharp, full of little creaks and grinding noises as he carefully manoeuvered the limp form. Peeling her jackets off wasn’t too hard, as she lolled like a rag doll; he hissed under his breath when he saw her arms, red lumps under the skin and more of those angry-looking tracks marking the spaces between and under the tattoos. Leaning back against him with her head laying back on his shoulder she tucked a piece of paper into his hand, and rolled her face to whisper in his ear.

“Directions. Get out as soon as you can - I’ll take their shit and get Eero out, don’t worry about me. But follow the instructions, OK?”

He nodded, slipping the paper into his pocket and holding her close as she lifted her arms, turning them wrists up and clearing her throat to attract the attention of the crowd beginning to gather in the conference room.

Kai’s anger had drawn guards boiling from several concealed doorways, and they waved their prods at him threateningly while they tried to force him back from the Dark avatar. Greenlefe was on his feet, sneering into Kai’s face; he was demanding to know why, if she was so deserving of consideration, she had sold her soul to Hell? Was she not a blight on mankind, and would the world not be better free of her? She was part of the Old that would be destroyed when--

“Gentlemen,” she rasped, and shook hard in Dirk’s arms. He hoped she had the strength to carry through whatever it was she was up to. She was beginning to twist in his arms, but it didn’t feel like she was directing the movement; more as though two people were occupying one space, and the other was trying to fight free.

Dirk swallowed hard. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he was going to have a grandstand view.

Greenlefe turned and growled, snatching a prod from a guard and advancing on the table when he saw how the other Magus had positioned herself; Yoz bared her teeth at him - her mouth bloody - and narrowed her eyes.

“You fucking idiots haven’t got the wit to run a piss up in a brewery, let alone the world. Here. Play with this lot for a bit.”

She straightened her arms and let her head loll back. To Dirk’s utter horror the lumps under her skin began to move, sliding along toward her wrists and exploding from the softer skin of her underarms, shredding their way out between the lines of ink, rolling down to the table and bouncing to a rather wet halt. More came, and more, until the table before them was covered with shiny wet, red lumps the size of horse chestnuts that twitched and rolled and bounced under their own steam.

Kai, Dan and Henjo stared. Greenlefe stepped forward with a sneer, reached out a hand, and prodded one of the balls with his finger.

The avatar must have figured out what was coming before the Mage, because he jumped back with a screech. Greenlefe was too late, so when the casing broke open to release the slender, many spiked form of a scarlet centipede he stood not the slightest chance of avoiding its attack.

Not even pausing to check out its surroundings with the long, slender antennae that projected above the snapping jaws it ran straight up his arm, scuttled across his face, and dived into one ear. He dropped to his knees, screaming shrill with horror and scrabbling at the side of his head; fingernails tore the skin as he tried to grab the fast-vanishing beast, and blood flowed down his neck. More of the creatures jumped on him, others exploding from their eggs to race over black-clad guards, still more leaping for the avatar. The wet eyed pyramid was being torn to pieces by two particularly large specimens, and it screamed as it was ripped to pieces by sharp, chitinous jaws.

Pandemonium.

Yoz opened her arms and arched her back, Dirk feeling another tremendous shudder roll through her as a second wave of the casings flowed from her body. She screwed her eyes shut and hissed; he could see the pain in her expression, and figured that if she could carry the damn things within her then he could hold her upright as she released them. No matter how much he wanted to just drop her and run from the multiplying horrors.

“What are they, Yoz?” he grated between his teeth, clutching her convulsing form to his chest and not really expecting an answer. He knew she was tough, but this? Christ, the damage they were inflicting as they poured from her body--

“Styxians,” she panted, choking on her next words as another wave of the awful red balls surged from her arms again. Dropping back to tremble against him she gulped air, watching with a certain amount of tired satisfaction the screaming chaos her action had sparked. “Underground dwellers. Chaos beasts. Don’t want ‘luminati any more than me.”

Another sharp cry and another flood of the creatures from her veins. This time when she sank back he was really worried; her eyes had seemed to sink back in her head, and the rush of blood from her wrists had slowed to no more than a faint smear on the casings as they rolled from beneath her skin. Under his arms he could feel her body roiling with them, lumps seething through her abdomen, her back, her chest, up toward her arms and freedom.

“Had to change... body chemistry to carry ‘em,” she said between swallows, “ow. Ow ow. Not too many... more now, though.”

He sat through three more of the terrible convulsions, by which time the other three had hopped up onto the table behind them; the eerie, scuttling creatures seemed to be ignoring them totally, but none of them wanted to take a chance that this might be some mistake on the part of the chittering, chitinous hordes. And they were increasing in number, too; the shells broke down into clusters of slow moving mites that clumped together, crawled to find more substance then rolled themselves up, emerging with a faint pop to scurry away to join their siblings in the attack. And when a group of them had fed to the point that their scarlet skins were poking out fat and greasy from between their shiny red plates they would curl into a spiky ball, tremble for a moment then break apart into two, three, four more slender new individuals that would then vanish into the mass until they too were full fed, and could begin the process again.

“Won’t hurt you,” she mumbled, eyelids beginning to droop.

Regardless of her words the four men crouched close together in fear, watching wide eyed as the mass of unearthly creatures spread across the walls and ceiling of the room, dimming the light through their bodies and covering every surface in a clicking, scratching, antennae-waving rustle of clawed and murmurous bodies. More, however, was to come. Flowing like water up onto the table they gathered themselves into an approximation of a humanoid face, a little long in the nose and sharp of chin, gaps for eyes and snapping jaws for teeth.

“yoz,” it said, and collapsed into a swirling mass of bodies. They climbed over each other, squealing in confusion before humping up once more to try again.

“yoz. what. now.”

Back to the writhing, chaotic sea of bodies. By now Dirk had almost relaxed; with the Magus in his arms and his fellows huddled at his back what could touch him if this nightmare did not?

Although he did rather think that, if they ever got out of this, he might well have a bit of a bad reaction if he ever saw a centipede again.

She stirred, smiled up at him. “Kai?” she whispered, and he was there in a heartbeat.

“Yoz,” he said, keeping his voice under careful control. “What are these things?”

The face reformed, and Dirk could have sworn it leered. “friend,” it said, and collapsed.

“more. or less,” it added, from another face that formed behind them.

Yoz snickered. “Styx,” she breathed, and this time the face held itself together for a little longer, managing a nod before it dissolved. Dan swore softly, and Dirk followed the line of his friends gaze; all around them, on the walls, floor, ceiling and everywhere in between the faces were forming from the endless ebb and flow of the swarming arthropods. They would watch, shoot each other sly winks or laugh, and then melt to re-form elsewhere.

His nightmares were going to have a very particular form for a while, he was sure of it.

“Styx,” she repeated, and struggled to sit up. Dirk helped her, and once she was settled she grinned at the face. “Leave the humans. But anything tainted with the Dark you can eat. And then return below when the job’s done. Got that?”

The face pouted, fell, reformed with a sly smile. “you. are tainted. with dark.”

“Don’t be difficult.”

The laughter came from all around them, swirling and hissing and chuckling, and Henjo curled himself up into a little ball and began to tell himself this was not happening, it really really was not. Dan patted his back, but didn’t disagree.

“fun,” it said, and made itself into a form that resembled Henjo’s shuddering shape, then back to a face with a raised eyebrow. Other faces swirled and laughed at them, even as the noise of bodies being consumed snapped and crunched behind it.

“You’re a bit creepy to some humans,” she slurred, and that terrible sound of amusement flowed around them again. Dirk sat very, very still when a large specimen of spiky awfulness ran up to him, plucked at his sleeve and examined him with every appearance of curiosity. Long antennae tapped at his jacket and then it was gone; he saw it moving those enormous, slender looking wands against its fellows, and wondered what information about him it had managed to gather.

“cared for. my children well, yoz.”

“Your help’s been a blinder. Let these men go, right?”

“if. you. must insist.”

“I do. Let me get myself together then you can show me where the other one is.”

“we know. we know. nearly gone, yoz. almost dark. he is.”

“Eero,” whispered Dan, his face white and expression strained, and their Magus nodded.

“One moment, Styx.”

The creatures - flowing in and out of doors and ceiling vents, Dirk saw - made a hissing, chuckling noise with their bodies and returned to their aimless, ceaseless surging around the room in random search for more organic substances to consume. The fluorescent room lights flickered between their myriad bodies, casting a weird, red reflected glow across the room that had looked so normal such a short time ago.

A skull was tossed up on the tide of chitin, bounced and played with for a moment, then pulled back down into the mass with a decisive crunch. Splinters of bone emerged and scattered, then they too were gone. Soft furnishings shredded and tore, and even the surface of the table was getting great gouges in it where various of the Styxians would chew on it, eager to see just how edible it was before scuttling away in search of an easier meal.

“A little shine please, Kai,” muttered Yoz, and he grabbed her hand with alacrity. If she was all that stood between them and being eaten by the - admittedly rather polite - ravening horde then he would cheerfully donate pretty much anything to keep her going.

From her place in his arms Yoz smiled up at Dirk even as she felt the strength flowing back into her veins. She could take a little more and then--

She shut the flow off, and struggled to sit more upright. Dropping a quick kiss on Dirk’s cheek she grinned at the men; the temptation to drain Kai, to relegate him to position of living battery was enormous, and so she tried to quash it whenever it reared its ugly little head. Now, though, she could get on with the job in hand - getting everyone the fuck out of there before the sometimes capricious Styxians decided to break their promise and eat them, too.

“You four,” she said, “leave. Now. Dirk’s got a map and instructions. I’ll grab Eero, have a look around and send anything relevant to the Rosicrucians; go to the safe house and wait for me there. I’ll be fine. Now go.”

Kai gripped her shoulder, and she winked. He shook his head, grabbed Dan and jumped down from the table; the mass of crawling, clicking horrors opened up for him, allowing him to walk on the carpet instead of them. She didn’t allow Dirk to speak, just got him moving with a slap to his ass; Henjo, still wide eyed and trembling, said not a word to anyone but headed for the door with all haste. She watched them go, then levered herself carefully to her feet and shuffled to the edge of the table. Various forms and effigies made up of Styxians watched her progress, and there was dark amusement in the empty eyes.

“do not fall. magus.”

“Who, me?”

“we. may. decide to see. if you taste as. sweet.”

“as the rest.”

“as.”

“you look.”

“Funny, Styx. Now would you be so good as to show me where the lad is?”

“we could. bring.”

“him.”

“here.”

“in pieces. in our.”

“tummies.”

“You want me to get angry?”

That laugh, risen to a deafening boom, shaking the walls with the sheer number of creatures now saturating the fabric of the building. Yoz grinned back at the shifting sea of legs and pincers and waving antennae; Styx - the Styxians - was a hive mind, an amoral creature that lived far below the surface and consumed all it came across in an unstoppable river of hunger that flowed through the cracks in the rocks of the deep places of the planet. She’d dealt with it before, and found it to be an affable creature that was quite happy to make deals with surface dwellers; unless watched very closely, however, it would conveniently forget its promise and turn on its summoner, running loose and destroying all it could before the surface atmosphere proved inimitable to its physical structure.

This could make for some rather twitchy alliances, but Yoz found that she rather liked Styx. It had a wicked sense of humour, and could be as playful and affectionate as it was destructive and savage. You just had to approach it right.

The chemistry of the air and rock above the surface would very shortly become poisonous to the creatures that made up Styx’s body, however, so she needed to do what she’d come to do with all speed before her whimsical ally had to return to the darkness of the deep, hot rocks that were its normal home. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to volunteer to be a living host for its egg cases again in a hurry. That had really, really hurt.

“come.”

“magus we. will.”

“lead you to.”

“the boy. you.”

“are sure. we.”

“cannot eat.”

“him?”

She hopped down from the table and stuck a cigarette in her mouth, retrieving her bloody jacket and shrugging into it. A column of centipedes formed beside her, the topmost one scratching its front legs together and producing a flame to light her cig. She puffed it to life and grinned at the face that winked at her from the floor.

“Thanks. And no. Just take me there, OK?”

“spoilsport,” said Styx, and shoving her hands in her pockets Yoz followed her ally’s directions to find the dark cell where the youth was still chained to the wall.

And in the abandoned conference room, the lights went out for the very last time.

~*~

It was still full dark by the time the four men emerged from the building, wild eyed and shaking. If they thought they’d seen it all in their dealings with Yoz they’d been so very wrong; the clicking hordes had parted for them like a sea, sometimes revealing things that would have been better left covered. Styx’s feeding could be very... enthusiastic. Messy.

The faces had followed them out, laughing and blowing kisses but not, to their eternal gratitude, speaking to them at all. Kai thought that if he never heard that stilted, stuttering voice that came from unexpected directions again it would be too soon. Magic was as replete with horrors as it was with wonders, it seemed, and they were being given a real show on this jaunt through a world that seemed as unreal as a dream, sometimes.

They slipped out of a side door, and paused to take a few deep breaths of the clean, cool air of the normal world. The atmosphere below had been getting rather thick; the centipede-creatures that made up Styx’s body had an acrid, sharp body odour that had been making it pretty difficult to breathe down there, each breath making the lungs feel as though they were growing a coat of fur. Dirk supposed it was something to do with the different body chemistry that Yoz had mentioned - but whatever the reason, he was damned glad to be out of it.

“Where are we?” asked Dan.

“Nuremberg,” said Kai, still leaning on the wall with his eyes closed.

“Yeah, I know that,” replied the taller man, shaking his head, “I just wondered where, exactly.”

Dirk pushed himself off from where he’d been leaning, and walked around the corner of the building. They’d emerged in an alcove, hidden from seeing the whole construction by brick and concrete walls. You didn’t, however, have to walk far to see the whole frontage, and Dirk snorted when he realised just where they were.

“Over here,” he called, and the other three joined him.

“Oh,” said Dan.

“Figures,” agreed Henjo.

“A place of power,” murmured Kai, almost to himself.

The four of them stared at the sweep of the parade ground, and sat down on the lowest step of the monolithic building that they now knew they’d been imprisoned in the lower levels of. Stark, masculine architecture, a homage to the insane minds that had created it.

Ehemaliges Reichsparteitagsgelände, the former Nazi Party Rally Grounds.

The four men sat in silent contemplation for a while, feeling the quiet breeze tug at their hair, wondering if theirs would be the last screams to echo through this terrible place. Out here, the clean night air so peaceful, anything seemed possible.

An acrid whiff of Styx-scent reached them when the breeze changed direction, shaking them from their trance.

“Time to go,” said Kai, bouncing to his feet then giving Dan a hand up from where he still sagged on the steps. He hesitated to follow the others, looking back at the door they’d left the building through.

“Eero,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yoz said she’d bring him,” replied Dirk, examining the piece of paper she’d given him, “so she’ll bring him. There should be a car parked around here somewhere....”

Dan fidgeted, then gave in with a sigh when Henjo patted his arm, his gentle brown eyes filled with compassion.

The four men trooped off without so much as a single backward glance at the building that held so many horrors, past and present.

~*~

The drive to the safe house took a little over an hour, Dirk driving the car Yoz had left for them - this time stealing a big blue BMW and leaving a note with a winking smiley face on the wheel - and Kai reading off the instructions, occasionally puzzling over the handwriting. Weaving through the streets of Amberg took a little longer; it was a fairly standard modern town, but the centre was an utter nightmare of one way streets and no parking zones. Some cursing later and they found a spot to park, piling out and following the last few lines of instructions to what was supposed to be their safe house.

It didn’t look like a house. In fact, it wasn’t a house at all.

“A furniture shop?” asked Dan, scratching his head while wearing a puzzled frown.

Henjo shrugged, and the three of them followed Kai in; a small Asian shop assistant spotted them, and gasped before dashing away round a display of sofas to call for help.

“Crap,” sighed Dirk.

The help that emerged, however, was nothing like what they’d expected. A small Chinese who bore a distinct resemblance to the small statuettes of Buddha scattered around the shop, he smiled and waved his arms as he chattered at them in a mixture of English and rough German; yes, he was expecting the gentlemen, if they would care to follow him, yes, he had something to show them. He would take care of their car, yes he would, and they were to make themselves comfortable, please, they really must, and here were the keys....

The four found themselves standing at the bottom of a long, dark stairwell, Kai clutching the bunch of keys pressed on him by the bustling shopkeeper. The door they’d been shoved through slammed closed, and they heard the lock turn.

They blinked at each other in the silence for a moment.

“What...?” asked Henjo, shaking his head.

“No idea,” replied Kai, “but I suggest we go up these stairs and find out.”

“What if it’s dangerous?”

“Then it’ll find out,” growled Kai, starting up the stairs with a determined expression on his face, “that I’m dangerous too.”

~*~

To their surprise what they found at the top of the stairs was a nicely laid out four bedroom split level apartment; the lounge was equipped with two comfortable sofas and the latest in top of the range audio-visual equipment, the kitchen fully stocked and each bedroom equipped with its own en-suite shower, with a larger ‘family’ bathroom containing all the latest gadgets, as well as an enormous tub. Also, laid out on each of the beds were a pile of clothes, a note pinned to the top of them with each of their names, and explaining that it was hoped that these items would fit their guests.

The notes were unsigned, but handwritten.

“D’you think it’s safe?” asked Henjo, nibbling on his lip and frowning at Kai, who was prowling the apartment with an air of deep suspicion. Dan snorted and clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head and grinning.

“After being chained to a wall for nearly a week? Fuck it. I’m having a shower and a meal and then sleeping for a week. And screw everything else.”

Dirk laughed and agreed, watching Dan fondly as he jogged toward the bedroom he’d claimed as his, shedding clothes along the way and whooping about finally getting clean and then eating and a soft bed and--

The bedroom door slammed on the rest of his words, but cheerful singing could soon be heard. Presumably, considering the acoustics, from the shower.

“It all seems awfully convenient--” Kai began, joining the two of them where they waited in the centre of the lounge.

“It’s a safe house, right?” said Dirk.

“Ye-es,” agreed Kai, still not losing the frown.

“Safe. House. It’s a clue. Get it?”

“I suppose a thousand year old organisation would have the money to tuck a few places like this away,” mused Henjo, before squinting at Dirk and scowling. “Anyway, I don’t care if we’re about to get jumped on and murdered - you stink.”

Dirk grinned. With their escape he was feeling almost silly with relief; being thrown from the starkness of the dungeon to the luxury of the safe house he just needed to rest, take it all in. Eat and sleep and rest, that was it. And then they could decide what they wanted to do - after they’d got their breath back.

“Fine. Wake me up in a week,” he said, and trotted off to the bedroom where the pile of clothes with his name on had been left.

“Good idea,” sighed Henjo, and he too wandered away.

Kai glared around the now empty room, and listened to the sounds of three very hot showers being run, at least two of them accompanied by cheerful, if a little off-key, singing. They should be planning, setting guards, checking the flat for bugs or booby traps or--

He felt very tired, and let his shoulders sag.

“Oh fuck it,” he muttered, and headed off for a shower of his own.

~*~

By the time they’d got clean, thrown together a meal and eaten it they were beginning to wonder how long it would take Yoz to find them.

“She’ll show up,” murmured Dirk, half asleep with the TV remote balanced on his stomach. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so satisfied after a simple meal and a shower; he supposed that was what deprivation showed you.

“Like a bad penny,” chuckled Kai.

The sound of someone banging on the door ripped through their sleepy contentment. All four startled, staring at each other with faces gone white with fear. The door banged open, and they leapt to their feet.

“Blimey, didn’t anyone ever tell you buggers that the bad guys don’t knock first?” called a cheerful, familiar voice. “The way you lot look you’d think I was Moriah himself!”

“Who?” asked Henjo, grinning at the Magus despite the fright she’d just given them.

“Death,” said another voice, and Dan bounced across Dirk and Henjo to sweep the speaker up in his arms and swing him around with a happy bellow.

“Eero!”

Yoz leaned against the wall and watched the noisy, happy reunion with a wry smile on her face. Dirk spun out of the happy crush first, and pulled her into a hug. She laughed against his chest, and protested that she couldn’t breathe anything but essence-of-Dirk.

“You got him!”

“I did. And then I followed you guys here. You OK?”

Dirk gripped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length, eyeing her carefully. “We’re fine. How are you?”

She snorted. “Nothing that a good kip, a meal and a shower won’t fix. And maybe even a good shag, but that can wait - right?”

“You?” grinned Kai, shoving Dirk out of the way and grabbing her around the waist, swinging her round. “Wait for a shag? You’re losing your touch.”

Growling in mock anger she wrestled him all the way to the couch, pinning him to it and biting at his throat until he yelled for mercy. Henjo and Dirk joined in and she fought all three of them, pinching bums and nipping at shoulders - not to mention stealing quick kisses wherever she could - until they collapsed into a laughing, snorting heap in front of the couch. A large hand worked its way into the pile, and Yoz found herself hauled out by Dan’s broad paw. He pulled her upright, dusted her down, then hugged her tight.

“Thanks,” he murmured in her ear.

She wriggled out of his grasp and punched him gently on the arm. “Eh, no worries. Wasn’t too bad was it, kid?” she asked of the young Finn, who’d made his way across to the other sofa and had flopped on it, head back and eyes closed. Great dark rings clouded the delicate skin under his eyes, and the privations of the last week had left their mark on him; but when he opened those eyes and smiled at her a tiny flicker of their old sparkle showed. Dan positively beamed to see it, making her chuckle under her breath at the smitten drummer.

“No. Just mildly horrific,” Eero said, the sound of his words still a little weak.

Yoz found herself seized around the waist once more, this time pulled down across Dirk’s lap on the sofa. He folded his arms around her shoulders, tucked her head under his chin, and sighed happily to have her back in his arms again. Henjo offered to get the beers, and very soon the six of them were settled comfortably in front of the TV, the sound turned to a low grumble to allow them to talk. Dan had fetched the leftover pizza from earlier, and was encouraging Eero to eat; Henjo and Kai teased him about acting like a Jewish mother, and Yoz shook with laughter at their banter.

“So come on,” said Kai at last, poking Yoz’ leg. “Tell us how you got him out, then.”

She took the time to light a fresh cigarette, cocked her head to regard Eero then flicked her bottle top across the room to attract his attention. He blinked across at her, and risked the ghost of a smile. Dan looked as though he were about to object, but the grip of the boy’s long, pale fingers around his own seemed to calm him.

“You mind if I tell them?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Go ahead. If it gets to be too much--”

“I’m here,” said Dan firmly, and hugged the youngster.

“Fair enough,” said Yoz, and after sending Henjo to the kitchen to fetch more beer she began the tale.

~*~

“I found out rather more than I expected to, to be honest,” she said, letting herself fold back against Dirk’s broad chest. “Styx can be a very useful ally, when it wants to be. And not only does it dislike the Illuminati almost as much as I do, but it was quite enamoured of you lot.”

“What?” sputtered Henjo, and Yoz shot him a wicked grin.

“It’s used to seeing people screaming and running away, not facing it down,” she said. “And when Dirk just sat there and let it have a poke, it was impressed. Takes a lot to impress an immortal river of centipedes,” she laughed, nudging him with her elbow.

“Well, it was sit still or drop you,” he replied with a shrug, and snorted as Kai jeered at him for false bravery.

“If you’d dropped me,” she told him, snuggling further into the warm shelter of his arms, “I’d have bitten you myself. Anyway. Where was I?”

“Not screaming and running,” said Henjo, and she tilted the neck of her beer bottle at him.

“Thanks. So. You lot had scarpered as per instructions, and I was on my way to pick up the lad there. Sit still Kai, there’s a good chap.”

Henjo had made himself comfortable at the opposite end of the sofa, and Kai had half-curled into his lap; Yoz hoisted her boots onto him, and slid a little further down Dirk. The television flickered on in the growing gloom, illuminating her face with its ghostly blue shade, revealing and hiding details of the little group slumped around it and making the thick coils of cigarette smoke twist and jump like living, breathing beings in their own right. Eero had almost disappeared into Dan’s arms, and all six of them were more comfortable than they’d been for what seemed like a very long time.

“Styx told me it had found an interesting place full of good things to eat, and boring stuff that the good things were trying to hide....”

~*~

“What?”

“flat. shapes that scatter.”

“Paper?”

The centipedes swirled around her, and that scratchy laugh rustled close to her ankles.

“yes. some of.”

“them are. more concerned. about.”

“that than.”

“me.”

Yoz snorted. “Is it close?”

“yes. can paper. bite?”

She roared, leaning on the wall for support while the almost hysterical burst of amusement surged through her. Styx, however, did not sound amused at all.

“No Styx, it can’t.”

A sudden sharp sound from around her, sounding remarkably like a snort from a million throats.

“teach them. to. mind.”

“ME.”

“Yes mate. I’m sure if you’d left any of them alive they would be far more afraid of you than anything their papers could do to them.”

The insectile noises had a distinct undertone of grumbling to them at her words, and she smothered another snort of laughter with a cough.

Accompanied by the rustling, clicking horde Yoz made her way to the room Styx had described; like every other space in the underground complex the walls and floor were covered with the centipedes that made up the hive, some of which were still occupied with reducing the previous occupants to bloody shreds and shards. From off to her left there was the unmistakable crunch of flesh, and the wet liquid sound of bodily fluids fountaining across a wall.

Yoz ignored it, and headed for the stacks of paper that were - on the whole - still piled neatly by the shredder. Picking a handful up she began to leaf through them, accompanied by several large centipedes that sat on her shoulders and clicked to each other. Others ran up and down her legs, and one particularly spiky specimen scampered up her back and sat on her head to get a clearer view of what she was reading; Yoz ignored them all, knowing that this was Styx’s way of testing her resolve. One hint of fear and the creatures would fall on her, devour her as thoroughly as they had consumed every other living being in this place - except, she hoped, the ones she’d come to save. She and Styx had talked long and hard on that point, and she was fairly certain she could trust it.

“what.”

“is. written?”

“Passwords. If the computers still work...,” she walked across to the nearest terminal, hitting the power button and grinning like a wolf when it obeyed her by lighting up, and wishing her a good morning. Several of her watching centipedes squeaked and scuttled away from the light, only to have their places taken by others who must have been made of sterner stuff.

“Styx, is there any parrot in your ancestry?”

“what? parrot. parrot.”

“bird. parrot.”

 

“...no.”

“why?”

“Get off my fucking shoulder and let me work, then.”

The seething mass snickered, and her shoulders were in a moment free of interference. She used the sheets she’d taken from the stack by the shredder to hack through the subsystems, selecting files to download, others to erase, and generally causing as much mayhem within the Illuminati systems as she could in the limited time she had left. The really important files were still protected, but even with the patchy information she had--

“magus.”

“yoz.”

“time. is short.”

“Yeah, I know. Give me a minute.”

“more.”

“come. friends?”

Her head shot up and she swore. “No. Dammit! Are they coming down here?”

The mass snickered and rustled. “no.”

“Good.”

“they. have.”

“long. black things. i smell - water.”

“Oh shit.”

“and. other things. from the dark.”

“Chemicals?”

“stuff, magus. it will kill you. not.”

“me.”

“the boy. kill.”

“him. too.”

“They’re going to gas us?”

“they. think.”

“i will still. be here. if.”

“they are. quick.”

“Crap!” she hit a few keys, linking the system to someone that she knew would have far more of a clue than she. A quick rattle over the keyboard, and she was done. “Right, this will have to do. Take me to Eero.”

~*~

“Gas?” said Kai, eyes wide in the half light of the TV screen.

“Gas,” said Yoz. “The bastards knew I was still down there, and they thought they’d get me that way.”

“Just you?” asked Henjo, his expression sly in the gloom. Yoz stuck her tongue out at him.

“No, not just - Hansen, if you’re tying my bootlaces together I’m going to thump you - me. They thought you were still down there too, because most of their sensitives were still in bed with sick headaches after Kai’s little performance the morning before.”

“What performance?” asked Dirk, and she snorted.

“That’s right, you missed that bit, didn’t you? I’ll get to it. Kai, what _are_ you doing?”

He tilted his head to look up at her from where he was busying himself across her feet. “You have your boots on my balls,” he growled, “so I’m taking them off.”

“Your balls?”

An explosion of beer from across the room as Dan snorted, and Henjo collapsed with an attack of helpless snickering. Dirk’s chest rumbled and shook under her back, and she nestled her shoulders more firmly against it; it was a good chest for leaning on, just the right amount of give and wide enough for her to get really comfy in.

Kai flipped her the finger, then got her boots free and threw them in the general direction of the bedrooms, swiftly followed by her socks. “There. Now I just - Jesus _Christ_ , woman!”

“I’ve been wearing these boots for days, what did you expect?”

Kai wriggled off the sofa and stormed to the bedrooms, coming back with something clutched in his hand. He sat down and forced them over her feet, reducing her to helpless giggles when she realised he’d just shoved a clean pair of his own socks on her.

“Cor, look,” she said, wriggling her toes in the pristine white socks, “we’ve got the same size feet.”

“Shut up.”

“While you’re up,” grinned Dirk, waving his empty beer bottle. He was rather enjoying having the snorting, shaking Magus curled against him, especially as he could see straight down the front of her shirt from this angle.

Kai swore some more, and went to fetch everyone fresh beer. Eero was holding up well, snuggled into Dan’s strong arms, blue eyes gleaming with some amusement at the antics on the other sofa.

Yoz had herself back under control by the time everyone was settled again, and wriggled her feet back into Kai’s crotch - ignoring his protests - before resuming her tale.

~*~

Their run through the corridors was rather faster this time. The rest in front of the computer - not to mention the energy she’d siphoned from Kai - had given the Magus a spring in her step, and several times she had to hop and skip to avoid treading on parts of Styx that weren’t quite fast enough at getting out of the way.

“you. will not.”

“hurt. me.”

“Yeah, well. It’s impolite to tread on your ally, OK?”

It led her to a steel door, one in a long line of such. She turned the handle; locked. Yes, she could use a little of her power to open it, but how much would she have to use? And how long would it take her to recover? Styx watched her think for a while, then spoke up as sweetly as it could.

“here. is this. what.”

“you.”

“are. looking for?”

Styx’s habit of forming and re-forming faces around the room mid-sentence could make you dizzy, and if there was one thing she didn’t want it was an attack of vertigo whilst being hip deep in demon centipedes. Not good. Still, the key carried up in the jaws of a slender, spiky new Styxian certainly fit the bill - and the lock - and she dropped a quick kiss on the top of its shiny head even as she opened the cell door and looked in.

Eero was still curled up in a tight ball against the wall, and she had to shift into her Other sight for a moment to be sure he was still alive, his breathing was so shallow and infrequent. He didn’t have much energy left, trembling on the edge of falling into the Dark; the bright glow he’d had last time she’d seen him was worn away to almost nothing, and even Styx held back out of respect when she knelt next to him, stroking his shoulder and making soothing noises.

“C’mon, kid. It’s over. Uncurl for me.”

A tiny shake of his head, but the sniffle that came from deep within the young man’s chest at least let her know that he’d heard her.

“Eero. Mate. It’s Yoz. You remember me, noisy, irreverent, pain in the ass?”

Another sob. She glanced over her shoulder; the rustling body of Styxians was becoming restless, and she could see some of the larger ones starting to sag. The atmosphere was beginning to get to it, and it would soon have to retreat to the depths of its normal home or suffer terribly - leaving her not only one ally down, but vulnerable.

Not to mention the bastards on the surface with pipes of poison gas.

“hurry.”

“I’m trying. Got any bright ideas?”

The sea of scarlet chitin seethed back and forth while she spoke to the tightly curled figure, although a small group did break away to smash Eero’s chains.

“Thanks.”

“it is. nothing.”

“he is dying. we can.”

“make it. fast.”

“he.”

“will not.”

“suffer.”

“Styx!”

A shuffle through the mass, a shrug from a creature that had no shoulders.

“leave. you must.”

“and.”

“we. must. too.”

“I know! Look, you’ve been really helpful, but--”

The susurration became a roar, and the two humans were suddenly surrounded and buoyed up on a wave of clicking, screeching, many limbed Styxians. They were bowled over and swept up, carried along without being given a choice in the matter. Styx tried to explain while it ran, but was even harder to understand in motion than it had been standing still.

“argue! not!”

“gas. now. from above!”

“Oh, _fuck_.”

“quite.”

“so.”

“we shall.”

“take you to. the.”

“surface. touch the.”

“boy.”

“mind. to mind.”

“Hang on kid,” she muttered, and slid into the trance that allowed her to skip between realities.

~*~

Eero sighed, the soft sound from the other sofa the first noise he’d made since Yoz began her story. He shuffled himself more upright, and patted Dan’s arm where it curled around him, protectively; he tilted his beer bottle and examined the remaining liquid in the shifting, flickering light of the television, then cocked his head to look at the surface.

He turned the bottle, watching the light slide and play along the glass, turning and changing when it met the slow slide of condensation, reflecting back into his thoughtful expression while the others waited for him to speak.

“I remember seeing a light,” he said, his voice harsh from days spent groaning in fear and pain, and all the screaming he had done when he was first captured. “And hearing a voice.”

“Me,” said Yoz, and shrugged against Dirk.

“It was a kind voice. And it told me that the worst was over.”

“Kind? _Yoz?_ ”

“Remember whose foot is by whose balls, Hansen.”

“Yeah but - OK! OK!”

Eero smiled, just a twitch of his soft, full lips but a genuine smile nonetheless. “The voice explained what had happened, and it didn’t seem so bad after that.”

Yoz’ expression softened, despite just having dug her toes into a rather sensitive spot on Kai’s anatomy.

“I did a bit more than talk, mind you. They’d messed you up pretty bad - so I had to fix a few things as well.”

“You took away the pain,” he continued, curling back into Dan’s solid shadow, shuddering with memory, “and helped me to come back. I wanted to die - so bad - but you hung on to me. And you wouldn’t let me go.”

Dan made a small noise in his throat, and Eero smiled up at him. The sweetness of the expression on the young face caught the breath in his throat, and he sighed to see it. “You were gone,” continued the youngster, reaching up to touch Dan’s newly trimmed beard, “and with you gone I had nothing left to hang on for. You kept me breathing until then.”

The drummer’s eyes widened, the green hidden in the constantly changing, fluttering colours of the only light in the room. The boy smiled up into that gaze, and Yoz cleared her throat to continue. Dan’s expression had shaded to one that made all of them feel they were intruding on an intensely private moment; indeed, the pair on the other sofa appeared to have forgotten the very existence of the other four.

Until Kai threw a bottle top to bounce from Dan’s forehead, of course.

“Stop mooning and get more beer!”

Shaking himself out of his trance, Dan snorted and flipped his boss the finger before settling Eero comfortably against the cushions and making another beer run. Refills in hand - and the pile of empties beginning to mount up - they all sank back to listen to the next part of the story. Yoz snorted, grinning in the shifting light.

“And if you lot think you had it bad, you should try waking up being carried along five inches above the floor on a sea of horrors. I think Eero coped very well, all things considered....”

~*~

Eero screamed, a high pitched noise that jerked Yoz out of her trance with a thump. In his panic he was kicking and thrashing, managing to scatter enough Styxians that for a moment he hit the floor and was buried in them; their confusion spread and she also found herself dumped without ceremony on the concrete floor. Staggering to her feet she grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up and steadying him until he could stand alone. Staring around himself he tried to climb her to get away from the swirling mass of jaw-snapping creatures, only to look up when he was almost to her shoulders and yell when he saw them on the ceiling, too.

“noisy,” grumbled Styx, lunging and snapping down at Eero’s head from the ceiling, then rattling that horrible laugh all around them when he ducked. He squealed, clutching Yoz’ back even harder and half strangling her.

“you. should have.”

“let me--”

“Eero!” she yelled, pulling his arm far enough from her throat to be able to breathe. “They’re friends! Honest!”

Styx seethed back from them, leaving a clear area of floor; looking up along the corridor she saw a gleam of yellow, the blessed normality of streetlights around the door to the outside that had been left ajar. Styx scuttled back, one last face forming and dropping the two humans a wink before dissolving to pop back, up on the wall.

“must go. below.”

“now.”

“gas. gas gone.”

“Gone?”

The mass gave that odd humping wave, the equivalent of a shrug. “far. below.”

“many.”

“rats.”

“for the. journey.”

She snorted, turned to Eero. “Nip on up to that door and wait for me there, OK? And walk - don’t run.”

Moving with all the fluidity of an unoiled robot the young man staggered away to the exit; the sooner he could get out of this horrifying nightmare the better. But at least up there he could look out at the stars while he waited for the next awful thing to happen to him.

Yoz grinned at the slowly withdrawing mass. “Thanks, Styx. I appreciate your help.”

“pfh.”

“did. nothing.”

“played.”

The creatures moved further down the tunnel, the voice growing fainter with distance. “caution. magus.”

“great. power is. stirring.”

“think.”

“might not.”

“win.”

“this. time....”

She blinked at the retreating creature, watching the darkness until the very last of the chitinous noises had dissipated in the thick atmosphere. Nobody would be able to go down there for a while, that was for sure; the acidity of the environment that Styx usually inhabited was reflected in the organic makeup of its body, and was attested in the strong, vinegary odour of its body. Having been so active through the whole underground complex she had no doubt that by the time people wanted to come back down here the very fabric of the place would be unstable. And perhaps it was time, at that.

She trotted up the corridor, and cuffed Eero lightly on the arm with a grin.

“That was fun. Ready for a bit of a snack and a drive, kid?” she asked, and was rewarded with a smile that was still small, but that shone like the rising sun.

~*~

By the time she’d finished the story Eero was asleep across Dan’s lap, the older man stroking the fair hair back from his forehead while he watched his face relax into somnolence. Yoz snorted under her breath, and Kai tipped his head on one side.

“Take him to bed, Daniel,” he said, and Dan’s head shot up. Kai couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but it looked as if his friend was blushing. Resisting the urge to make a crack about it - and probably get another nudge in the balls from Yoz - he waved a hand airily. “To sleep, you fool.”

“Yeah,” added Henjo slyly, “nobody said anything about fucking.”

“Yet,” said Dirk under his breath, and Yoz snorted beer down her nose.

Shaking his head at the antics - and the amount of giggling - from the other sofa, Dan scooped Eero up in his arms and wished them a good night. The four watched the big man make his way across to his room, the slight form of the younger man cradled against his chest. Yoz laughed.

“I think they’re rather fond of each other.”

“You do? Whatever gave you that idea,” grinned Kai, rubbing at her ankle with a grin. She huffed at him with a smile, then her expression sobered.

“Now that they’ve gone, there’s something else I want to tell you. I had a call - well sort of, it’s a bit difficult to explain - while we were driving back here. We had to stop off so I could find a phone. Bloody nuisance having to secure a line when you’re knackered, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“And?” said Kai, stilling his hand where it had been caressing her leg.

“Bad news, I’m afraid,” she said, lighting a fresh cigarette and swivelling herself around to put both feet on the floor, leaning her elbows on her knees and staring moodily across the room. “This whole thing - from Hanne to the destruction of the Harzburg House, to your capture and escape - has been a ruse.”

Kai jumped to his feet and whirled to face her, waving his arms around. “What? A _what?!_ ”

She rubbed a hand over her eyes, sounding tired. “We, Christ, not even _I_ thought the bloody Illuminati would throw that many resources into finding out just what I was capable of. Doesn’t seem worth it, somehow.”

“You?” asked Henjo, and she nodded.

“Believe it or not. The whole fucking thing - to not only draw me out, but show them exactly what I was capable of.”

Kai dropped to his knees, and put his hands over hers. “But why?”

She smiled at him, her expression rather resigned. “There’s a lot of stories about me. Nobody knows them all, and nobody knows what you might call the whole truth, if such a thing exists; not even I know exactly what I’m capable of. It’s not something you can quantify.”

“Why not?” asked Dirk, and she shrugged.

“How many albums can you make?”

“Well, it depends.”

“Exactly.”

The three men fell silent for a moment, thinking this over. The Magus sighed, and ran one hand through her hair, tugging at the ends of it. “The trouble is, now they’ve got a pretty good handle on what I can do they can plan for it. And as you saw, they’ve got more resources - people, places, money - than we have. If they can afford to do this just to find out what one part of the opposition can do...” her voice tailed off, and she shook her head before continuing, her voice low, “then we may well be on the losing side, in the end. And it’ll be at least in part my fault.”

Dirk rubbed her back, circling his palm, soothing her with his touch. She leaned against him again, eyes miserable.

“Look,” he said, “even if you’d known it was a ruse, would you have come for us anyway, when you found out what they were going to do?”

She bit her lip, finished her cigarette and crushed the butt out in the ashtray before replying.

“Hate to say this, but yeah. Probably.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what sort of strategy it was,” said Kai, jumping back to his feet and folding his arms. He tilted his chin forward, a determined expression settling into its usual place. “Because you would have done it anyway. Right?”

She shrugged, rubbed her hand across her eyes. “Maybe. But I’ll admit, lads, it bothers me. It bothers me that so many have died just to find out what I can do. It bothers me that I might have to be as ruthless as them to beat them - which, in the end, makes me no better than they are. You see what I’m getting at, don’t you?”

“Yoz,” Kai sighed, and sat next to her on the sofa, nudging her shoulder with his, “they don’t know what _I_ can do, do they?”

“Or me,” said Henjo.

“Or me,” added Dirk, nudging his shoulder against her. She tipped her head to look at each of them in turn.

“No. Just...no. Because one, I don’t want you in that sort of harm’s way. Once has been quite enough. Well. Twice if you count the House and being captured as separate incidents. And two, Kai’s the one with the shine. You guys, well...,” and she shrugged, reaching for another cigarette and lighting it with a snap of her fingers. “You’re not useless, but - damn.” She flung herself back on the sofa, sighing out a stream of smoke that caught the light of the television, dancing in the darkness, and closed her eyes.

“I hate this,” she said, voice small, “I absolutely hate it. This is why I work alone.”

Dirk and Henjo exchanged glances, and Henjo plucked at Kai’s sleeve, jerking his head in the direction of the bedrooms. Time to leave the pair of them out here to argue it out, the gesture said; Kai scowled, but allowed himself to be persuaded when Henjo scowled right back at him. He didn’t insist on getting his own way very often, but when he did even Kai tended to listen to him.

“Didn’t you say,” Dirk told her, stretching out next to her on the couch, “that I had a little bit of the shine, too? That it’s what attracted the demon to me?”

She eyed him suspiciously, but he continued as though he hadn’t noticed the look.

“And they’re making the assumption that we’re useless. That Kai is only any good as a power source, not as a magic user in his own right.” He shook his head and snorted, almost unable to believe what his ears were telling him his mouth was saying. “Magic. Christ. Still, look at it this way - what do you think makes the difference between a successful musician and an unsuccessful one?”

The look continued, and he carried on ignoring it.

“I don’t know,” she said at last.

“Persistence. Not giving up. Ever. And every time you get knocked down you just get up again and you never, ever let anything get in your way.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “In other words, sheer bloody mindedness?”

“Something like that.”

Smoke puffed up in swirling shapes, curling its lazy way toward the ceiling and dancing with ghostly images from the TV. “Our lines of work not so different, I guess,” she said at last, and he snorted.

“Mine is less dangerous, usually.”

Hissing between her teeth she looked at him, lifting her hand to stroke the side of his face. “Usually. You are chatty tonight, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, curling closer to her and nuzzling her neck. “If you give up they’ll win. If they win you die. I...wouldn’t like that.”

“I shall have to thump you if you get any soppier, you know.”

Dirk snorted a laugh, and nipped at her shoulder. She smiled back, rumpling his hair with her free hand then letting it drop, rolling a strand of his dark blond hair between her fingers. He took the fidgeting fingers, lifted them away from his head and kissed them, watching her shifting expression with his cool grey gaze.

“Enough worrying, Magus.”

“Says who?” she asked, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Says your bassist.”

“ _My_ bassist? Kai might have something to say about that, I think you’ll find.”

“Never mind Kai now,” he murmured, finding her mouth and kissing her. “I belong to who I say I belong to,” and his lips moved against hers, making her smile at the soft tickle that thrilled through her nerve endings, “and it sure as shit beats being possessed.”

Kissing him back with enthusiasm she was quiet for a while, simply allowing herself to enjoy his mouth on hers, the gentle stroke of his tongue, the press of his body. Eventually, though, she wriggled out from under him and poked him in the shoulder.

“You. Have managed to distract me.”

He grinned, and she cursed him before bursting out with laughter at his unrepentant expression. “OK, fine. So what say I take a shower, and then you distract me some more?”

He pulled her down for another kiss. “Sounds great,” he replied.

 _~TBC~_


	7. Solid

_****_

Solid

 

“Did you two,” asked Kai as Dirk and Yoz slouched across the lounge, heading for the table and breakfast, “ _have_ to scream like cats in heat all night?”

Dirk raised an eyebrow as he sat and helped himself to coffee.

“Yes,” said Yoz, stealing a piece of toast from Dan’s plate and munching it noisily, “next question.”

“You want an egg?” asked Henjo, who was poking around in the kitchen.

“Thanks. And I don’t suppose there’s such a thing as a supply of tea bags in there, is there? Real ones. Really proper English breakfast ones.”

Henjo rummaged in the cupboards some more, eventually surfacing with a grin. He held up his hand, clutching a box; Yoz’ face lit up, and he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes and looking wicked.

“What’s it worth?”

“Don’t even think it, Richter,” she growled at him. He waggled the box at her with a laugh and made to dump it in the rubbish, and she stomped off toward the kitchen to give him a little lesson in not-depriving-your-Magus-of-her-tea-in-a-morning. Dirk shook his head and watched the scuffle with interest, Dan - in the meantime - assembling a selection of items on a tray and ambling back to his bedroom.

“Breakfast in bed for Eero,” grinned Kai, sucking noisily on his coffee, “must be love. Do you think they’ll finish before we starve to death over here?”

“I heard that,” grumbled Yoz from the kitchen, where she had Henjo in a headlock.

“Put him down,” sighed Dirk, hooding his eyes and lacing his fingers together on the table in front of him, “you can squabble after we eat.”

Yoz took a further moment to force Henjo to his knees in the kitchen and blow a very noisy raspberry in his ear, then let him go and strolled back to the table.

“All the toast gone?”

Kai eyed her. “You could make some more.”

She lifted her voice and turned to Henjo with a smirk. “You heard the man, bitch.”

“You want me to piss in your tea?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“On the other hand,” Dirk grumbled at her, pouring himself more coffee, “you can go squabble now, because at least it means you’ll be doing it over _there_.”

She dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head as she headed out to give Henjo a hand assembling the rest of the food and bringing it through. The kitchen was indeed well stocked, and it was quite an impressive array of items they managed to pile up before the hungry men, Dan coming out for another plateful to share with Eero.

He ignored the sly digs, refreshed their coffee, and padded back to his room with as much dignity as he could muster.

After the main portion of breakfast had been consumed, Henjo returned to the kitchen to get more toast and boil some more eggs, with some editorial comment from the table which continued until he threatened to do something terrible to the tea tomorrow morning. And Kai’s cigarettes, which earned him a guffaw but did, at least, allow him some peace to work.

Deciding it was time to see if Kai was still serious about learning more magic, Yoz picked an egg out of the bowl and resolved that it was time for another lesson.

She balanced the egg on her palm and eyed it. “Right,” she said, “so last night you were saying that they didn’t know what you could do. So maybe it’s time to teach you a little more - does that sound reasonable?”

Kai’s eyes lit up, and Dirk snorted. Henjo nudged him under the table, and he subsided with a chuckle.

“Watch me,” she said, and narrowed her eyes. To the astonishment of the men the shell of the egg began to crack, dividing itself into neat little squares which then began to peel themselves away from the hard boiled white underneath. One side done it stood on end, wobbled a little then lay flat again, the process repeating itself on the other side. She nodded when it was done, sprinkled a little salt on the naked egg and took a bite.

“OK,” she said through the mouthful, “your turn.”

Kai looked at her.

“Telekinesis, should be a piece of piss for you. And don’t tell me you didn’t see what I did because I saw you seeing - by the way, was it Greenlefe who taught you how to use both sets of sight at once? Terribly bad form, that, swapping teachers.”

Her eyes were cool, watching him for a reply, and he shook his head. It appeared that there had been little love lost between Yoz and the now-dead Illuminati Magus.

“No. I just sort of...figured it out. For myself. With what you tried to show me before.”

She finished her egg with a shrug and took another one from the bowl. Balancing it on her palm she cocked an eyebrow at Henjo. “That last one was a bit soft - maybe a minute or so more in the pan tomorrow, eh?”

He flipped her the finger, and she blew him a kiss across the rim of her mug before turning back to Kai. “Come on then. Doesn’t have to be neat, but the essence of what you’re doing is control. Think tiny movements.”

Kai squinted at the egg, and scowled as he concentrated.

“Easy,” she murmured, while the other two watched in fascination. Kai began to sweat. He gathered up his concentration, and pushed a glowing tendril of it toward her palm; reaching the egg he tried to spread the glow across it, pick at the edges of it but lost it at the final moment--

Yoz brushed eggshell from her hair, then calmly shook bits of the exploded egg from a spoon and began to fish splinters of shell from her mug.

“I think,” she said, listening to Dirk curse as he brushed tiny pieces of debris from his hair, “that we need a little more practice.”

Kai blushed, and agreed.

~*~

By the end of the third day cabin fever was beginning to set in. Yoz had taken to spending a great deal of her time in Dirk’s room, only occasionally emerging to get more tea and answer a barrage of questions from Kai, sometimes letting herself be talked into giving him further lessons. Some went well - he was getting quite proficient in his use of his Other sight, and merging his aura with his surroundings so that he appeared, to all intents and purposes, to vanish - and others--

“So I could change my body?”

“Well, it is possible.”

“Stop myself ageing?”

“Or losing your hair,” muttered Dirk from behind a book he’d found. Yoz fought down a grin.

Still glaring at Dirk, Kai muttered under his breath until another idea occurred to him, and then he grinned. “I could make my dick bigger!”

“Kai, you have a tendency to explode stuff you’re working on. You think it’s a good idea to try it with your dick?”

Dirk almost shot coffee down his nose.

“I could make your nose smaller, Schlachter!”

\--not so well.

Kai had taken to pacing the lounge area of the suite, prowling like a caged beast. Everyone else was hiding from him, staying well out of his way; Yoz had ambled through to get herself yet more tea when he cornered her in the kitchen, an unhappy frown on his face.

“When do we get to leave here?”

She sighed, stirring the boiling water around the tea bag and not quite meeting his eye. “When it’s safe.”

“ _When_ will it be safe?”

She lifted the tea bag out of the mug and flicked it into the bin without looking. “Look, I don’t know. I know it’s wearing, but you’ve got to be patient--”

He hissed and shook his head, then eyed her with a glint in his gaze. She returned the look with suspicion.

“What?”

“Why haven’t you opened your room? Last time you were with us you were in and out of it all the time.”

She froze, then looked out of the window with the unhappiest sound he’d ever heard her make. “Because I can’t. It makes a very distinctive - noise, I guess you’d say - and if I open it then anyone who’s looking for us will be able to pinpoint where we are in a moment. So I can’t use it. Not and keep you lot safe, anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She took her mug and left him alone in the kitchen with his thoughts, cursing himself for just making her mood so much worse than it was already.

They had to get out of there.

~*~

Day four, and their usual breakfast banter - becoming a little strained now - was interrupted by the sound of the door that led to the shop below being unlocked. As they’d agreed, Dan, Eero and Henjo headed for Dan’s room leaving the other three to face whatever approached. Yoz called up a ball of energy that buzzed and crackled between her fingers, Kai hid himself and prepared to feed her as much energy as she needed, and Dirk stood to one side of the lounge with a loaded shotgun.

Tension thick in the air they waited, remaining silent and waiting to see if the intruder was friend or foe. Yoz relaxed a second before a voice called out to them from the stairs, cheerful and unmistakably English.

“Yoz? Kai? Anyone home?”

Dirk lifted the shotgun with a hiss of relief, and their Magus dissipated the energy weapon with a happy whoop.

“Moira!”

The familiar figure made her way into the lounge, putting her keys down on the table and grinning at her friend.

“You made it out OK then,” said Yoz, wrapping her friend in a bear hug then passing her off to Kai and the others so that they could do the same. Chuckling and breathless by the time she reached Dan and Eero, she stuck her hand out with a laugh.

“You don’t know me, but--”

Dan ignored the hand and pulled her into a hug, laughing at her squeak of surprise. “I know you helped dig Dirk out when the ceiling fell on him...”

“So did I,” said another voice, rather plaintively, “so do I get hugged too?”

“Jason!”

Kai reached him before Yoz did, and the pair had a brief tussle to see who would swing him round in a breath-shortening hug first. Laughing like crazy children it was hugs all round, Dan and Eero shaking hands with the pair they’d heard so much about, the level of the conversation spiralling out of control until Jason, laughing, suggested they have a spot of lunch before they deafened each other.

Yoz and Henjo squabbled cheerfully in the kitchen while the others made themselves comfortable on the sofas, the newcomers explaining that they had managed to escape the Illuminati attack by the skin of their teeth.

“You made enough noise that they went right past me,” said Jason, his forehead creasing as he remembered that terrible night. “But I was lucky, too. We lost a lot of good people that night.”

Moira squeezed his hand, and he turned a weak smile to her.

Kai told them about arriving in Nuremberg, their capture - Moira covering her mouth in horror at the tales of torture, rushing across to hug Eero - then being reduced to near tears of laughter at their wry descriptions of Styx. Called to the table the story telling continued, everyone’s spirits much restored by the survival of old friends, and the retelling of their own escape. Especially as it seemed so distant now, the fear and uncertainty left behind them.

“So,” said Yoz, when the conversation lulled, “please tell me you’ve come to get us out of here.”

“Yup,” grinned Jason. “And that’s not all. The big guns have decided that it’s time to fight back - there’s going to be a big conference at one of our bases, and your presence is respectfully--”

“Demanded,” said Moira with a laugh, and Yoz banged her head on the table with a groan.

“Fuck, politics. I _hate_ politics!”

“Oh, you’re going to love this one,” said Jason, his expression by now positively vicious, “it’s at Gutenfels, one of the Rhine castles. And dear old Gunther, the owner, cannot abide non-humans. Or experimental magic. Or anyone who isn’t an old-blood Magus....”

“Holy shit,” laughed Yoz.

“Exactly. And everyone’s going to be there - the Weavers, the Vespertillo, the Arcadians, even representatives from Heaven and Hell. It’s going to be a right old punch up.”

“Oh shit, angels?”

“Yeah.”

“I _hate_ angels!”

“And we leave when?” asked Dirk, trying very hard indeed not to think about who the representatives from Hell might be.

“As soon as you can get your shit together,” said Jason, and he and Moira laughed when they were almost buried in the rush to get bags packed.

~*~

The journey was less than dignified, slow, and rather uncomfortable. Jason had shepherded them out of the apartment, piled them into the back of a van and driven to the outskirts of the town; on arrival at the place where they were to transfer to their transport to the castle there were cries of dismay when they saw just what they were going to be travelling in.

“A cattle truck?”

“Sorry Yoz,” said Moira, fighting hard to smother the smile that threatened to escape, “it was the best we could do at short notice.”

“Yeah, but a _cattle truck_?”

The men just stared, Henjo wrinkling his nose at the unmistakably barnyard odours already coming from the back of the vehicle.

“Can’t some of us at least go in the cab?” asked Dirk.

“Sorry,” said Jason.

“Shit.”

“And plenty of it,” sighed Yoz, peering into the cavernous space that appeared to be jam packed full of cows.

With a last hug goodbye - and a lot of complaining - they boarded the truck, finding a small area at the front that had been sectioned off with several bales of hay. Making themselves as comfortable as they could, and warding off the curious attention of the cows, they settled in for a long, tedious, and very smelly trip.

~*~

The last part of the journey was a walk up a vicious incline. The truck had dropped them off at the bottom of a slope, stopping long enough for the driver to offer his bovine charges more hay and water. Slipping away into the dark, the five men and their Magus ruefully commented that if they were attacked now there would be no hiding - they would be too bloody obvious from the smell alone.

“If I never get that close to a cow again,” muttered Kai, “it’ll be too soon.”

The others agreed.

Groaning with the discomfort of stiff muscles and joints from the long hours cooped up amongst the straw bales it was almost dawn by the time they arrived at the castle gates. Huge and imposing, bigger even than the gates of the Harzburg House had been, they barred their way with a silent solidity that mocked their exhaustion. Taking a moment for a breather they flopped down on the grass outside the gates; Eero wandered over to a gap in the trees that overlooked the river, and his quiet exclamation of wonder brought the others over to see what had caused it.

“Oh...wow,” said Yoz at last.

Dirk looped his arm across her shoulder and smiled. “Still affected by a sunrise?”

“Yeah, sometimes. And you’ve got to admit, it _is_ pretty....”

They stood in silence after that, stunned by the sheer beauty of the wooded slopes that dived down to the mighty Rhine far below, tiny vineyards here and there amidst the wildness of the scrub and the patches of forest. The breeze was fresh, scented with spring, and the air around them was full of birdsong; the river glittered as it wound its way between the precipitous slopes, and the sound of an engine drifted up to them as a cargo ship fought its way upstream against the current.

“Gentlemen?” asked a voice politely, and they turned to see a young man dressed in odd sort of uniform. He was hovering nervously, eyeing them as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“You talking to me?” asked Yoz, and the man paled before bowing deeply.

“My pardon, Lady Magus Yolanda. If you and your companions would care to follow me?”

“Better,” she said with a sniff, and swept through after the servant to be shown into the huge, brooding hulk of castle Gutenfels.

~*~

It didn’t take them long to settle in. They had been guided to a very plush suite, bedrooms for each of them - although Dan and Eero shared, and Yoz said she’d bunk in with whoever she damn well pleased - an old fashioned but comfortable bathroom and a large, airy reception room. Wooden floors were covered with thick rugs, and the fireplace was well stocked with logs to ward off the spring chill from the air. Food was obtained by calling down to the kitchens, and was then sent up on a dumb waiter, although facilities for making coffee and tea had only been provided after Yoz had made a very loud and strenuous complaint to the kitchen staff about being deprived of her favourite beverage.

“So now what?” asked Dirk, and Yoz shrugged.

“Now? We wait,” she said with a sigh, and wandered away to take her place in the queue for the bathroom.

~*~

Dan and Eero, once washed clean of the all pervasive smell of cow, decided to explore and promptly got lost. They had to be guided back to their rooms by a brace of the uniformed servants, faces stiff with disapproval at the wandering guests. Dan was shaking his head as they entered, still talking excitedly as Eero watched him with a fond expression.

“...it’s huge, I tell you! I didn’t know places like this still existed. I mean, I knew they did, but--”

Kai snorted, turning back to his discussion with Yoz. She was curled in a large wing chair, ever present mug of tea clasped in both hands, mismatched eyes hooded and thoughtful.

“Our host has given me some more information on this meeting - it’s going to be the biggest event since the Society was formed. Bigger than the one they had when the Templars bit the dust, and by all accounts that was noisy enough.” She shook her head, ignoring Kai’s sudden quizzical glance over at Henjo. “Anyway. We need to come up with a plan - you up for a bit of flash to impress the bigwigs?”

“Flash?” said Dirk, perching himself on the arm of the chair.

Yoz’ grin was pure evil.

“Yeah,” she said.

Cocking his head, Kai couldn’t help but grin in return. “What sort of flash?”

“You’re rockstars. Very few of them have ever met a rockstar before - so let’s play it to the hilt, shall we?”

~*~

The next few days were a blur for the five men. Yoz was constantly busy, appearing just long enough to eat or snatch a few hour’s sleep; Dirk and Kai both became accustomed to the feeling of a small, tired body worming its way under the bedclothes to curl against them and fall asleep with a sigh.

Dan and Eero spent most of their time on the small balcony that looked over the river, talking. With the advent of the warmer weather they watched the workers crawling along the steep slopes of the vineyards, and worked their way through the issues that had overtaken them both. The youngster was still often tired - legacy of the tortures he’d endured in that horrible basement - but with the gentle drummer’s help he seemed to be getting through them. Henjo had found an acoustic guitar, and spent a lot of time playing, just working through ideas. The mournful resonance of the instrument could be heard to echo through their living quarters at pretty much any time of the day or night, and although the others often asked him if he wanted to talk, the answer was always a gentle smile and a shake of the head.

Dirk read, and Kai was bored.

“I’m bored,” he told Yoz on one of her infrequent visits, standing in the middle of the ornate rug with his arms folded and his eyes cold. She looked up from where she was reading over Dirk’s shoulder, dropping crumbs in his hair from the sandwich she was eating. He sighed and brushed them away, looking over at Kai as he closed the book, marking the place with one long finger.

“We’re all bored,” he said.

“But you don’t have anything to practice. I should be practicing. And learning new things _to_ practice.”

Yoz watched Kai fidget from her perch on the arm of Dirk’s chair. He shook his head and went back to his book while the Mage finished her sandwich, then sighed.

“Have you been practicing what I’ve shown you so far?”

“He’s broken a lot of fucking eggs,” grumbled Dirk without looking up from his book, and Yoz fought down her smile at Kai’s blush.

“I’ve been trying,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“I’m really pretty busy right now,” she told him, and felt a pang of sympathy when his face fell with disappointment.

“I can’t bear this,” he said, dropping his chin and apparently addressing his chest, “being out on the edge. I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t leave these rooms. I feel...useless.”

Dirk nudged Yoz’ leg with his elbow and she sighed. He didn’t even have to look at her and she could read his expression; take him with you, it said. For fuck’s sake. Before we have to kill him ourselves for being the most annoying person in the Universe.

Yoz sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could have just let them go hang and carried on alone, but no, damn her conscience. She’d had to go and get involved and now? Now she was paying for it. In great big buckets and spades.

“Never again,” she said between her teeth, then hopped from the arm of the chair and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Fine. Want to see what I’ve been up to?”

Kai looked up at her, and even she had to sigh at the misery in his expression.

“Please,” he said.

“Oh fuck. Come on then,” she said, and held out her hand to him.

His face brightened immediately, and he almost ran to join her. Rolling her eyes she towed him out, and Dirk had to snicker as he heard their voices cut off by the slam of the door.

“Great! So what’s happening? Is it magic? Have you been doing stuff that--”

“Kai, shut up! Just because I’m bringing you--”

They’d be lucky if he didn’t come back in a matchbox.

~*~

What she was up to turned out to be a lot less interesting than he’d hoped, at least initially. It seemed to consist mostly of rushing between different rooms, making phone calls, and having deep technical discussions over various of the supplies that were going to be needed to keep the many and motleyed people happy when they arrived for the mysterious meeting. And lots of talking about the Illuminati threat, and worrying about discovery, and security, and--

“Come on,” she said to him in the end. “I’ve been asked if I can help with a little problem one of the experimental guys is having. You’ll like this, although I warn you - Carl’s a bit of a nutter.”

All the way down into what must have been the old dungeons Kai was wondering what on earth could make someone like Yoz - whose lifestyle was anything but conventional - think of someone as being ‘a bit of a nutter’.

Whatever he thought he was expecting, it wasn’t the small, skinny guy that dragged open the heavy oak door they knocked on. He blinked tiny, watery blue eyes at them - magnified out of all proportion by the thick glasses he wore, extra lenses and wires protruding from them at all angles - then grinned with a mouthful of broken, stained teeth and beckoned them through. He minced, his steps tiny and delicate and his hands fluttering constantly as he talked.

“It’s this wormhole, you see, it works in model form but when I try to boost the power and open it then it collapses. The ingredients are right, the incantations are theoretically sound--”

Kai nudged Yoz with his elbow. “I thought,” he muttered into her ear, “that alchemy was all about turning stuff into gold?”

Carl’s hearing was obviously better than his eyesight, because he scowled at the redhead over the preposterous glasses. “Yes, well, that’s what the uninitiated think. Experimental alchemy is a fusion of ancient knowledge and modern physics, a way of making our mother universe see things as other than that which they really are - a method, indeed, of making the very fabric of reality dance for us--”

Yoz, standing out of the little man’s sight, tapped the side of her head while he waxed lyrical about the delights of inventing new spells, incantations, and other things only half of which Kai actually understood.

“Carl,” she said with a sigh, “what do they think we can do to help?”

He beckoned them forward, and led them through a brick archway into what must have been his laboratory. Filled with equipment that was a strange fusion of ancient and modern it was cluttered, hot, and smelt like the dregs from the bottom of a particularly nasty chemical vat. Kai coughed, and wiped his streaming eyes; Yoz snorted, and weaved through the mess to where a small pile of apparatus hummed happily to itself, two glowing spots of light hovering in midair between two silvery probes.

“This is the model,” he said, waving his hand at it, “but for some reason I can’t get it to work when I actually apply the incantation.”

“That is because,” intoned a new voice, heavy with disapproval, “it cannot work.”

Yoz groaned. “I might have known you’d be here. Hello Peter.”

The tall, cadaverous man wrapped in a black robe - until now invisible in the shadows of the dark, dingy workshop - stepped into the circle of light and looked down his nose at the newcomers. The hair on the back of Kai’s neck began to prickle, and he straightened his spine and glared right back at the intruder. Whatever he was feeling rolling from the black robed man it wasn’t a happy emotion, and if Yoz hadn’t laid a hand on his arm he might well have carried the irritation further.

“He’s a necromancer,” said Yoz, under her breath, “and a damn good one. But not a nice guy.”

“Nice,” snorted Peter, and Yoz shot him the finger.

“What are you doing down here, anyway?” she asked, turning her attention back to the model. “Kai, use your Other sight.”

He frowned, and tried it. Much to his amazement, the air between the two points of light was alive with thin, bright lines that formed a double ended funnel, rolling and turning in an endless dance. He barely heard the necromancer sneer that it was a matter of power, and he could raise enough to make the project function at this scale, if the experimental alchemist could make it work. Which he wouldn’t.

“Yoz,” murmured Kai, and she was back at his shoulder in a heartbeat. “Look there. That’s not right.”

At a certain point in the cycle the lines would shiver and stammer, hiccuping over a rough spot in their otherwise smooth weave. He could see what had to be done to fix it, but didn’t know how; she put her chin on his shoulder and began to speak to him using her low, soothing ‘teaching’ voice, walking him through a totally new use of his own skills.

Making a pencil out of the power of his mind he changed the lines, correcting the flaw until the glowing wireframe model turned smooth along its length, no more hitches or stutters. Carl was bouncing and clapping his hands with glee, and as soon as Kai had finished he dived on the model and began to make notes, scribbling frantically on a pad with a thick pencil. Peter stepped back into the shadows, merging with the darkness so completely it was though he had never been there.

“Right!” squeaked the little man, and shouted a short incantation.

The model expanded, puffed out a layer of glowing green vapour, and settled back into what appeared to be exactly the same state it had been in before.

“Um,” said Kai, but Yoz’ hand on his arm stopped him.

Carl took two stopwatches, set them both going at the same time, and dropped one into the nearest hovering glow. It vanished, appearing immediately at the other one to bounce across the floor. He ran in, grabbed it, stopped them both and then let out a war whoop that sounded like a whole troop of cavalry being massacred by Indians.

“It works!” he screeched, and Yoz grabbed the stopwatches from his trembling hands. Sure enough, they showed different times; the one that had passed through the miniature wormhole had been suspended in time during its journey. The necromancer reappeared, and curled his lip at them.

“It still won’t work,” he snapped, and swept out of the workshop with a flourish, slamming the door behind him.

Carl sagged, and the watery blue eyes looked more mournful than ever.

“He’s right.”

“Why?”

The little alchemist sat down on the floor with a plop. “Because I can’t give it enough power to get it any bigger than this. To increase the size and the range to anything useful is going to take an enormous amount of energy--”

“How much, exactly?”

He named a figure, and Yoz eyed Kai thoughtfully. “Do you need that much to keep it open?”

“No. Once it’s open it takes very little to fuel, and even less to close.”

“Are you going to be at the meeting?”

Carl cocked his head and frowned. “Well, yes. I was going to present this new magic to them - but there’s no point if I can’t--”

“Do so. I’ll sort your power problem out for you.”

“Really?”

“Promise,” she said with a wink, and the last thing Kai saw as she towed him out of the stench of the workshop was Carl dropping various items into the ball of light, squeaking like a rubber toy as they shot out the other end. Once the great door was slammed behind them, she turned to Kai and kissed him, with more enthusiasm than she’d shown for anything since the escape from Nuremberg.

“What was that for?” he asked, and she grinned her old, wolfish grin.

“Beorn was right, mate. Looks like you might just save us all yet!”

~*~

On their way up back up to their suite a shadow detached itself from the walls, and Yoz whirled to face it. She relaxed with a sigh, however, when she realised it was just one of the castle’s dark-liveried servants, one of the ones that Kai tended to think of as defending the more esoteric side of castle life.

“I have been sent to ask you,” began the man, skipping any polite preamble, “if you could stop your...companion...from disturbing the fabric of the building any further.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been at all deliberate,” soothed Yoz, managing to hide the fact that she had absolutely no idea what the stern-faced man was talking about.

“Be that as it may,” he rumbled, the lines in his face deepening with disapproval, “he should stop.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“See that you do.”

She inclined her head at his florid bow, and the pair of them waited in the gloomy stairwell until they were quite sure that they were alone. Kai nudged Yoz with his shoulder, watching her as she ran her fingertips over the cool surface of the cut stone of the wall.

“What was he on about?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, still stroking the stone, “but I think I need to have a little word with Henjo.”

“Henjo?”

“Yeah. If he’s been practicing his House-whispering skills he needs to learn to be a little more discreet.”

“But you said--”

Yoz winked at him. “I said I’d talk to him. I did _not_ say anything about stopping him, did I?”

Kai frowned, and Yoz shook her head before dragging him up the stairs. “Look. How useful do you think it will turn out to be if we have someone with us who can get directions from the building itself? We’ll never get lost again.”

Kai laughed. “We?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You said ‘we’!”

“I also said shut up.”

“Yes, but--”

“KAI!”

He laughed, and followed her back to their suite with a grin plastered across his face that had her swearing all the way there.

~*~

The next step was getting them all into their attire for the big gathering - the ‘flash’ Yoz had been talking about - and handing out instructions. Eero hovered at Dan’s back, his face creased in a worried frown; she noticed this, and elbowed the tall drummer out of the way to grasp the young man’s hand and tow him to one of the armchairs, where she pressed him to sit. He hunched in it, clasping his long fingers in his lap until the knuckles gleamed white, his dark blond hair falling to hide his face.

“Eero,” she said to him, keeping her voice low. Daniel knelt beside the chair, his big hand rubbing small circles on the youngster’s shuddering back. He kept quiet, shooting the Magus worried glances and soothing Eero with his constant, gentle touch.

Yoz licked her lips. This could be delicate. “Eero, you don’t have to come with us. You can stay here and be safe.”

He didn’t stop shivering. “How can you be sure?”

Well, at least he was answering. “Well,” she began, wondering just that, “for a start there’ll be too much bloody intrigue going on down in the main hall. And for a second you’re under my protection.”

The glance he shot at her burned. “That really helped last time,” he snapped, then curled further into himself. She hissed through her teeth; she’d be a lot happier with the sort of conversation that went along the lines of ‘Sit! Stay!’ - but didn’t think that would be tremendously helpful right now.

“Yeah, but that was last time. You’ll be quite safe as long as you stay here - I’m sure if I ask the door can be guarded. Will that make you happy?”

He shrugged, and she stood to let Dan take her place. He crouched before Eero, rubbing his hands and talking in a soft voice; it wasn’t long before the miserable figure began to uncurl a bit, nodding every now and again when Dan said something specific.

“Can you keep him safe?” asked Dirk from beside her, and she turned to stare into the fireplace with a frown.

“Define safe,” she hedged, and Kai groaned.

Henjo blinked, then reached over and flicked Kai’s arm. “She can’t,” he said, “but I can.”

“What?”

“The castle. It seems to like me.”

“We need to have a little talk about your habit of chatting up strange buildings, Richter. It’s very rude to do it without asking the owner first.”

Henjo grinned at Yoz. “Tell someone who gives a shit,” he replied, and headed for Dan and Eero. She stared after him, both eyebrows raised in surprise; Kai snorted, following Henjo before he could get smacked for laughing, and Dirk looped one arm around her shoulders, hugging her close and trying not to snicker aloud.

Henjo sat on the arm of the chair and rumpled Eero’s hair with affection, trusting Dirk to stop the sputtering Magus from turning him into a frog.

“You know I can talk to buildings, right?”

Frightened blue eyes regarded him solemnly, then a tiny nod.

“Well, I can get the castle itself to protect you. It’ll not let anyone in if I ask, and it’ll not only let us know if anyone tries to get in, it’ll fight them for you.”

Yoz’ eyebrows shot up. “No wonder they’re pissed,” she murmured, “if he’s managed to get a bond like that with their castle. Shit.”

“It’s a bad thing?” asked Dirk, who was beginning to rather enjoy the way she’d snuggled under his arm.

“Damn straight - as far as they’re concerned, anyway. Buildings aren’t like animals - their thoughts run at a different speed. It can take something like this place a century to decide if it likes its inhabitants or not - and Henjo has managed in, what, a week? to not only get this place to notice him, but do his bidding. If it was my castle I’d be pissed too.”

“I’m going to do it anyway, Yoz,” snapped Henjo, and she raised her hands to ward off his anger.

“I’m not arguing. Not until after tomorrow night, anyway. But if anybody asks, I’ve been very stern with you, OK?”

Henjo’s answering grin was interrupted by a knock on the door. Yoz wriggled out from under Dirk - ignoring Kai’s snicker at the pout that greeted this action - and answered the door, waving through several of the dark-clad servants. They put a series of boxes down, and left without another word; the last of them to leave, however, paused on the threshold and passed her a small, blue velvet box. She cracked it open, nodded, then sent him on his way with a wave. Returning to find Kai already picking at the tape that sealed the boxes she rolled her eyes.

“You are so bloody nosy,” she said, then laughed. “But this time it isn’t going to get you into trouble. Go on, open it.”

Kai squeaked happily and set to with a will. Yoz flopped down in one of the armchairs, observing, and turning the blue box over in her fingers. Kai sat back on his heels once he had the top of the box open, eyeing the contents, then shrugged and began to lift out a series of flat, well wrapped packages.

“There should be stuff in there for each of you,” she said, and went back to her silent vigilance.

“Clothes,” said Dirk, unwrapping one of his packages to find a black leather jacket, butter soft under his fingers but the hide thick, businesslike. It creaked as he turned it, and he eyed the fringes that decorated the arms.

Jacket and jeans for each of them, all in that same flexible but thick leather with an odd grain unlike anything they’d ever seen before. Shirts of a material that resembled silk, all in shades of black and blue that shifted and swirled in the light, one moment one colour and then something else; they reminded Kai of nothing so much as the marble that housed Yoz’ room, the colour never the same long enough to give it a name.

Dirk cleared his throat.

“No shirt for me,” he said, and Yoz grinned.

“Nope.”

“Shit.”

“Hey, you’re the one that likes to prance around half naked on stage - and this is going to be another performance, of a sort.”

He groaned at the laughter that greeted her statement, and she let them carry on for a moment before standing with a sigh, still clutching the blue velvet box. She beckoned them closer, even Eero; Dan had to drag him, in the end, but once all five were assembled she began to speak.

“Right. Now, with the possible exception of Dan and Eero you guys have been around enough magic people to have heard quite a few stories about me, yeah?”

Nods, and she returned the gesture once, sharply, in acknowledgement. “And you will have been told more than once not to trust me. Am I still correct?”

Some shuffling, and she gave them a rather rueful smile. “Normally I’d agree. Trusting me has got a lot of people killed, over the years - I’d hate to add you guys to that list, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. But now...” she lifted the box for them to look at, then sighed and flipped the lid open.

Within the black silk of the lining nestled a number of necklaces, the solidity of the chains throwing back the light with a cheerful glow. The carefully worked pendants were in different colours, understated but nevertheless beautiful in their simplicity. She took one out, bounced it on the palm of her hand then closed her fingers over it, biting her lip before shrugging and turning to hand it to Kai.

There was one for each of them, the pendants all a little different but the chains all of the same slick, reflective metal that chimed softly when it was moved between the fingers. She took the last pendant out, tossed the box back onto the chair and fastened the chain around her own neck. In contrast to the subtle colours of their own hers was a brilliant silver, a reflective finish that gleamed and sparkled in the firelight. She shrugged again, fingering the bright object with a distant expression before beginning to speak once more.

“The design you see on the end of these chains is something I haven’t worn for a very, very long time. It was allocated to me by a race of beings that you will probably meet tomorrow night, and by it every creature from the depths of Hell to the heights of Heaven and every parallel Universe in between knows who and what I am.” She eyed it and snorted. “Which is why I don’t wear it much. I might as well put a fucking sign around my neck saying ‘Magus, attack me!’”

“Trust,” reminded Dirk, and she snorted.

“Yeah. As I was saying. Usually, if throwing my companions to the demons to get eaten will give me a chance to escape I’ll do just that - but not when you wear those.”

Dirk put his own on as fast as he could get the clasp to open, and she laughed under her breath while he did so. “Yeah. While you’re wearing these things, though, that isn’t going to happen. They let every creature that lays eyes or mind on you know that you’re under my protection - and I could no more abandon you than I could abandon my own heart. They make you... a part of me.”

“Whoah,” said Kai, and put his on. She chuckled.

“Exactly. This is heap big juju, boys. And it’s not something I’d do for just anyone, but when the end of the world might be coming...” she shrugged again. “Then it helps to know who your friends are. Right?”

They all stared at her, and couldn’t help but agree.

~*~

Yoz decided, after watching the boys primp and preen and squabble over bathroom access, that she should perhaps have left them several days to get themselves ready, not several hours. Or maybe several years.

She settled herself further into the wing chair, propped her feet on a stool, and blew a long stream of cigarette smoke toward the fireplace. If she’d been wearing a watch she would have been glowering at that; as it was she just stared into the fire, smoked, then stared some more. At least the logs were already alight, and couldn’t be further scorched by her glare.

Eero, cross legged up on the sofa, watched her with some sympathy.

 

“They’re just nervous,” he said, his voice quiet. She tipped her head at him, huffing a series of smoke rings toward the ceiling.

“I know. I just wish they’d hurry the fuck up, is all.”

“I’m ready,” grinned Henjo, strolling over to rumple Eero’s hair again. “And you’ll be fine, OK? Don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” added Kai, bounding into the room with his usual effervescence, “between House-whisperer Henjo and Yoz the all-powerful you’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Yoz shot him the dirtiest look she could summon up at short notice, then sat forward with a sigh. “Are you guys actually ready yet? Because you have five minutes and then I’m leaving without you.”

Dan and Dirk trailed in, Dan still complaining about the new leather jeans squeaking when he walked. Dirk rolled his eyes. “So stand still then.”

“I can’t! Every time I move it sounds like I’ve got a mouse up my arse!”

Yoz buried her head in her hands and groaned.

“I think we’re ready,” grinned Henjo.

“Mice and all,” added Kai, and the Magus shoved down a fervent desire to throttle the lot of them.

~*~

As arranged previously - and once she’d got them to stop messing around and be serious - they followed her down to the main ballroom in a strict order. Kai walked by her side, Dirk behind them, with Dan and Henjo side by side behind him; as they got closer they could hear the ocean of sound that was the gathering crowd in the great hall echoing up to them. Feeling their tension she halted them, turning for one last word before they hit the mass of Rosicrucians, sympathisers and hangers-on that was collecting itself together in the space below them.

“OK guys. Remember: act as though this is all everyday. Kai, behave yourself. Henjo - no wandering off, no matter how big her tits are.”

He snorted, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

“Dan, no rubbernecking. You are not a tourist. And Dirk, stick close. I’ve felt some real big hitters down there, and your brush with the demon last year is common knowledge. Don’t let anyone wind you up, and keep your shades on,” these had been the last items in the boxes, and although they had all objected to wearing them at night they’d shut up when they realised that they were more akin to one-way glass than real shades, “because the eyes really are the windows to the soul and I don’t want to have to be doing any deals to get said souls back to you in one piece, OK?”

Four nods, and a few deep breaths.

“OK. Follow me.”

With that they continued down the steps, onto the wide landing that preceded the massive doors, and then through them to be scrutinised by the rest of the crowd.

They had arrived.

~*~

There was one of the dark liveried servants placed at the entrance to call out the names and titles of each of the new arrivals, and he dealt with Yoz and her little party with aplomb. Announced as ‘the Magus Yolanda, First of the Godslayers and Tenth level amongst Equals, Damned and Cursed by Heaven and Hell, The Balanced One,’ the whole place stopped and turned to look. She just smirked, and spoke to Kai from the corner of her mouth without moving her lips.

“Don’t look like that. They’re just words.”

“Jesus,” muttered Dirk from behind her, and she sent a flash of affection his way.

The others were announced with just their names, except Dirk who had the epithet ‘known to Demons’ added. He was not amused by that, and if it hadn’t been for the sudden presence of Yoz in his mind telling him to cool it he would have become very angry indeed.

As per instructions they fanned out around her at the top of the steps; she stood with Kai in the centre, Dan and Henjo on one side with Dirk flanking Kai on the other. Every eye in the place regarded them, and Kai felt more nervous than he had ever done facing a new crowd. These guys were going to be Hell to impress - and catching sight of some of the beings within the mass of...individuals...Hell was exactly the right word.

Yoz let her mind collect fleeting impressions, gauging how they were going to be received. Many noted the emblem around her neck, laying between her breasts in the considerable cleavage afforded by the outfit she’d chosen for the evening. Tight laced corset nipping in her waist, leather jeans the same as those the men were wearing except for a studded detail skimming down the outside seam, sleeveless silken surcoat billowing around her in the breeze that had accompanied their entrance. All in shades of black and dark blue that caught the light and swallowed it whole; leather wristguards and her hair - with its crackling electric blue highlights amongst the jet black - falling loose around her shoulders completed the look, and the outfits of her companions complemented it perfectly.

Wearing the leather jackets and jeans sourced by her for them, silk shirts tugging and shifting in the breeze - except for Dirk, who lifted his chin and frowned at the glances being directed at his broad, naked chest - they flanked her in a wall of long hair and leather, determination oozing from their stance and belligerent, dark-covered stares.

The crowd turned away and began to murmur again, and Yoz led the way down the steps.

“How’d we do?” hissed Dirk from behind one shoulder, and she chuckled.

“We’ll find out in a minute,” she replied, and with that answer Dirk had to be content.

They arrived on the floor of the great hall, and were swallowed by the crowd as though they’d never been.

~*~

For the most part - once they were in it - the crowd appeared to be made up of humans. Some were dressed more outrageously than others, of course, and masks were much in evidence; the owner of the castle was holding court in one corner, and that had to be their first stop. Having never met the man Kai and the others were curious to see just what sort of a person could host such a gathering.

“He’s an idiot,” Yoz muttered, “but a powerful one. So I suppose,” and this last was said with a growl, “I’d better keep a civil tongue in my head.”

Tall and middle aged with thinning sandy hair he stood, legs akimbo, dressed in the rich brocades and patterns of another age. He wore a sigil around his neck similar to the one that Yoz wore, and had it prominently displayed. She snorted.

“Bet he even wears it in the shower,” she grumbled, and then arranged her face into respectful neutrality when he deigned to turn and notice them.

“Magus,” he said to Yoz, his tone cool and a mere hair away from condescending.

“Magus,” she replied, and they inclined their heads to each other.

“I see you find it necessary to travel with guards these days,” he continued, eyeing the four men as though they had just emerged from under a particularly dirty rock.

“You know how it is,” she said with a smile, snagging a glass of wine from a passing tray, “you pick up people here and there. And if they’re useful, so much the better. For instance, Mr. Richter there has an affinity for stone; building stone, to be precise. And if you would care to cast your eye across them you will notice that there is rather more to them than meets the - conventional - eye.”

She paused to sip from her glass as he closed his eyes, then staggered back with a gasp. Eyes snapping wide open he stared at them, hands trembling a little on the stem of his own glass. Yoz inclined her head to him.

“We should...mingle. Good to see you again, Gunther,” she finished, and swept away before the man could recover his composure. Dirk - who had firmly attached himself to her other side - leaned his head closer to her.

“What did you do?” he hissed. Yoz shrugged.

“He saw Kai’s shine - and the rest of you as reflections of that. I told you Kai was something special, didn’t I? Mind you,” she added, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek, “you all are. Now just relax, huh?”

They made their way through the vast assemblage, and it turned out that Yoz knew everyone there; they all acknowledged her, some cheerfully, some with wariness in their eyes, and still more between varied degrees of gritted teeth. All received that same elegant tip of her head, and Dirk got the distinct impression she was enjoying causing such a stir. All four were, at times, glad of the glasses that hid their eyes; more than one of the guests had a made an effort to fix their gazes, giving up with a shake of their heads and a scowl when they couldn’t meet their eyes. And at times it hid from other watchers reactions that could have been very embarrassing had they been as openly obvious as they could have been.

The demons, for instance. Although the male was dressed in an austere business suit and the female in an outfit that was a leather fetishists wet dream, both had kept features that made it immediately obvious what they were; small, shiny black horns, cloven hooves, and in the case of the male, scarlet skin and slitted, yellow eyes. Dirk hid behind his shades and kept his face in an emotionless mask, although he could feel the mind of the creatures poking at him. Yoz hissed at them, smiling with lots of teeth exposed; she exchanged words in a language they were glad they didn’t understand, and the scarlet-skinned man turned away with a laugh. The female with him reached out her hand, and ran long nails along Yoz’ boot while licking her full, scarlet lips to briefly expose sharp fangs. Yoz tilted her head down and smiled at the beautiful demoness, telling her that if she touched her again she would be returning to her abode in Hell in a paper bag.

The demon appeared to find this amusing, and his laugh boomed across the room to silence it for a heartbeat before the polite chatter picked up once more.

Yoz herded her charges off to a quieter alcove after that, and turned to them with concern in her eyes.

“You guys OK?”

Dirk leaned against the wall, took his shades off and wiped his hand across his eyes. “I will be,” he said, the shaking almost gone from his voice.

Henjo had placed one palm flat on the wall and had assumed the faraway look in his eyes that, they assumed, meant that he was linking his talent to the soul of the building. He grinned, and patted the stone with a fond laugh.

“It’s happy to see the hall so full again,” he told them, and Yoz rolled her eyes.

“No signs of trouble?”

“None.”

“Good.”

“Yoz,” asked Dan, eyeing the crowd with some apprehension, “what was all that ‘tenth level’ stuff back there?”

“Ah,” she replied, lacing her hands in front of her, “it’s a Magus thing. You see, the vast majority of those who bear the title belong to a...I suppose ‘society’ would be one word, although ‘guild’ is probably closer to the mark.”

“But you said you work alone,” said Kai, and she nodded.

“They only include me on their roster because I’m too strong to ignore. I’m not into their petty power games and one upmanship. I work alone.”

“Not now though,” said Dirk, and she chuckled.

“Not now, true. Come on, I can see something that I think you guys need to see...”

~*~

The ‘something’ turned out to be a creature none of them had ever thought they would see in the flesh.

“Yolanda,” it said to them in its haunting, musical voice, hooding its glorious blue eyes and rustling wings of feathers so white that it hurt the eye to look at them. The armour it wore - modelled on a Roman pattern - failed to hide the muscles sliding under the skin of pale gold, and glittered in the low light of the hall. It wore a splendid sword strapped to its narrow hips, and bore a spear negligently in one hand. It resembled nothing so much as a statue carved of alabaster and gold, come to life to awe all that looked upon it with its beauty.

She tipped her head to it, but they could all see the tension in her shoulders that indicated how unhappy she was to see the angel. “Boys,” she said, and although her teeth weren’t actually gritted it was a close run thing, “what we have here is an actual angel. The archangel Michael, to be precise.”

The angel smiled, his full red lips curling in a smile so beautiful it took the breath away.

“Ah, Yolanda. Our Father mourns for your soul.”

She snorted. “Of course He does.”

“You doubt me?”

“You’re an angel, of course I doubt you.”

The smooth forehead wrinkled a little, the angel fluttering his wings until he stilled them with an effort. “I cannot lie, Magus.”

She grinned at him. “No? No, I suppose you can’t. But you can sure toe the party line - and if your boss perceives something as so you cannot disagree, can you? Free will my bum.”

Michael shook his head, glorious golden curls sliding around his face. He bowed his head in apparent sorrow, but the look he shot her from beneath blond eyelashes was cold, the glorious blue eyes carrying an expression less than beautiful. “You shall have reason to regret baiting me, Yolanda. One day. I shall have my vengeance.”

She bowed. “And there you see an angel’s true colours, gentlemen. If a dazzling appearance doesn’t work they reach straight for the threats - right Michael?”

The angel snarled and reached for the sword at his waist; Yoz was quicker, however, and had the fair skin of his wrist in her grasp before he could draw it.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it? And I suggest you think about consequences before you draw on me in here. There’s nothing that brace of demons over there would like more than to see one of the Heavenly Host in the shit because he slaughtered all these innocent bystanders in a snit.” She snorted at him, and narrowed her eyes. “Not to mention the fact your Boss wouldn’t like it at all, would he? Wind your neck in, wonderboy, _now_.”

The angel opened his wings and beat them, once, before folding them against his back once more. He glared at Yoz, and with another smirk she released his wrist and walked away, turning her back on him as though he was no more than an annoying child. His voice growled through the crowd after her, and sent a shudder up the spines of her companions.

“One day, Yolanda....”

She shot him the finger over her shoulder, which made Dirk choke and Kai snort with laughter.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” asked Kai, still grinning with delight.

“You might have noticed,” she said sharply, snagging something edible from a passing tray, “that the feeling is mutual. And unless I miss my guess, here’s another interesting character come to stir the pot.”

Some people shrieked when great wings beat the air over their heads, others ducked, some swore and a few - Yoz amongst them - laughed up into the vaulted space of the great hall. The voice of the servant doing the announcing cracked a little with surprise, then steadied.

“The High Lord and Hereditary Ruler of the Vespertillo formidolosus, His most Awful Highness Basti. And...entourage.”

“The what?” asked Kai and Yoz snorted, patting his arm.

“Cave Vespertillo,” she said with a wink, “beware of the bat,” and then led her own entourage down to greet the new arrival.

~*~

Four creatures flew above the heads of the crowd, great wings stirring the warm air as they completed a lap of the hall before two fluttered into the rafters, and two landed in a space that had cleared with some alacrity when the creatures had begun to hover in one place, indicating their intention to set down. The castle’s owner was the first to greet the individual, bowing and kissing the knuckle held out to him; hovering in the circling crowd at Yoz’ shoulder Kai noticed that first, the creature was completely naked, and second that its arms were wings like a bats, the fingers incredibly elongated to support the delicate membrane that carried it aloft. The thumb was long and bore a sharp claw, the fingers folding away along the arms; its feet bore four long toes - each impressively armed with more of the slicing, razor claws - with the fifth digit somewhat higher along the foot, armed with a crescent shaped, sharp edged claw folded neatly back against his leg like a switchblade. It stood on the balls of its feet, the heel never quite touching the ground; the legs were slender but lined with wiry, powerful muscle, the chest broad, and the arms much longer than they would be on a person.

Yoz waited until various dignitaries had made their approach, then stepped in and bowed.

“Evening Basti,” she said with a grin, “how’s tricks?”

“Yoz!” it cried, and bounded up to her. Enfolding her in those long arms it pulled her into a hug, stretching up to whisper something in her ear that had her grinning like a dog, bursting into laughter a moment later when it shot out a long, pink tongue and flicked it across her ear. Basti took a pace back, holding her by the shoulders with the long thumb claws, and laughed.

Kai and Dirk exchanged a look. Everything else had been weird enough, but this....

The great bat was talking quickly in a language they didn’t know, and their Magus was nodding, occasionally adding a comment of her own. Kai took the opportunity to study the creature a little more closely by stepping in to Yoz’ side, the move echoed - with some reluctance - by Dirk on her other flank. It turned out that for all his commanding presence in the air Basti was short, not quite reaching five feet. His bones looked delicate, as fine as spun silk but strong, terribly so; the membrane between his fingers attached down his sides, skimming across the rippling muscles of his short, strong body, and finished up by his ankles. It then swooped back up along the line of a long, slender tail, the last two feet of which - and the tail was almost as long as Basti was tall - were naked, the end adorned with an arrow shaped blade resembling a dragon’s tail.

And he was naked. Of course; quite how you would get clothes on to a creature whose front and back halves were effectively bisected by the thin skin of his wings Kai had no idea - short of using glue.

Which meant that his genitalia were very much in evidence, his balls full and heavy between his thighs, his cock safe in a sheath from which the very end had begun to peek when he drew Yoz in close. Kai heard a high pitched laugh, and dragged his gaze away from Basti’s nether regions to look the man-bat in the eye.

“They always check out the package first,” the creature was saying to Yoz, who had one hand over her eyes and was laughing so hard she could barely stand.

Kai blushed, and Basti grinned. His teeth were sharp and very very white; his face as fine boned as the rest of him, hawklike nose and huge dark eyes under sweeping, well defined brows. He looked like a prince from a temple carving, night black hair cascading fine and glossy around his shoulders.

“Basti, Kai Hansen. I should think with your libido you two are going to make a killer team amongst the women here tonight--”

Henjo laughed, and Yoz waved them in to introduce them all. Basti was fascinated, stepping back from Daniel and cocking his head to look up at him. He nudged Kai with his wrist and gave another of those high pitched chuckles.

“He is very big. Do you not get a stiff neck talking to him?”

Kai was trying to think of a suitable answer when the second creature - the one that had landed with Basti, the other two having flown up into the vaults of the roof where they even now hung upside down, watching the proceedings with glittering dark eyes - made its way to his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. Basti’s eyes widened and he laughed, beckoning to Dirk and baring all those terribly sharp teeth in a wicked grin.

It was only when the bat turned to speak to Dirk that Kai got his first good look at the second creature - and realised it was female.

“Oh...Mein...Gott...” he murmured, and Yoz patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“Quite something, aren’t they?” she said with a wry smile. Kai tipped the shades down his nose with one forefinger and stared for a bit longer before pushing them back up to their accustomed place.

“No shit,” he said with a weak laugh. He shot out an elbow to nudge Henjo, only to discover his friend staring up at the rafters with something akin to awe on his face. “Hen! have you seen--”

“Up there,” said Henjo, his tone dreamy, “are the most incredible tits ever.”

Yoz snickered, shaking her head. Basti’s companions were all female - and warriors, which she explained by seizing Henjo delicately by one ear and dragging him across to listen to her tell about the Vespertillo formidolosus, the Dread Bats.

One of the most ancient races of humanoids, they clung to a precarious existence in a few mountain ranges; some had made it to the New World, and there were rumours of colonies in the sink holes of Honduras, and more in the high Andes. In Europe, however, they were all but extinct.

Each colony was made up of females, with only one male to each as leader and father to all the young born within the colony; any males born left at adolescence, and had to scrape a living alone - or within a bachelor group - until the reigning male of a colony grew too old or weak to defend it. Then there would be a battle, a fight to the death, and the winner would take charge of the colony.

“Think of lions,” said Yoz, including Basti and his companion, who had joined them, in the explanation with a nod. “The females do the majority of the hunting and protect the colony from natural hazards, predators--”

“Man,” said Basti, without a hint of irony in the clear, black eyes.

“Quite,” said Yoz.

“But unlike lions,” the bat continued, his voice smooth, “we do not murder the infants of the previous Lord. We are...not animals,” he said, with a wry smile.

They were also, almost from birth, tremendously powerful users of natural magic. Never very numerous, they had nevertheless always been a force to be reckoned with - until the Christian church had begun its unstoppable march across Europe.

“And then we were doomed,” sighed Basti sadly, stroking the smooth curve of the back of his thumb claw along Dirk’s chest, “what with them considering us to be the very image of Satan. They claimed we drank blood and stole infants from cribs, and they murdered us wherever we were to be found.”

Dirk was looking more and more nervous, and Yoz slipped an arm around his waist. “Don’t panic,” she said, “he’s just a very touchy-feely sort of a beast - aren’t you?” she said with a grin to Basti. He raised one finely arched eyebrow and gave another of those wide, honest grins.

“Ah, this one is yours?”

Dirk mumbled something under his breath, and Yoz patted his waist.

“Sort of,” she said with a wink, and Basti laughed.

“That is a shame,” he said, “for Polaris here quite admires his chest, and was wondering if she might get to examine it more closely once the serious business is over.”

Dirk looked at the ceiling and tried to ignore the choking sounds that were his friends trying to suppress their laughter.

Before the situation could get any more complicated a great bell rang out, silencing the chatter for a moment. Three times it rang, and Basti and Yoz exchanged glances. She took Henjo’s elbow and gave it a shake, dragging his attention away from the upside down nakedness of Basti’s remaining two guards.

“Henjo, listen. You and Dan return to our rooms - you can keep an eye on what’s going on through the building, OK?”

“We’re not coming with you?” asked Kai, turning to watch the flow of people toward a large set of double doors that led deeper into the castle. Yoz bared her teeth at him.

“You and Dirk are. Dan and Henjo aren’t.”

Basti stretched out an arm, tapped her on the shoulder. “May Polaris accompany your men? Chara will come with me, Apodis remain out here but having another privy to what’s happening in there--”

“Eero,” said Dan, frowning. The female Basti had called Polaris stepped in to Dan, placing one clawed knuckle on his chest and assuming a sincere expression, flickering her tongue across her lips as she prepared to speak.

“Your friend is afraid?” she asked, tipping her head to look up into Dan’s face. Despite being slightly taller than Basti she was still much shorter than the drummer. Dan nodded at her, caught by the dark gaze and almost not noticing the breasts that rode high and full on her chest.

“Yeah. He had some...bad experiences a while back.”

“If my Lord wishes it,” she said, her accent thick but her words perfectly understandable, “I shall protect him with my body and my honour. He will be safe.”

Dan hesitated, then nodded. Yoz clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. Get on then - we’ve got a meeting to attend.”

Basti crouched, then was airborne with a single sweep of his massive wings. One of the females in the rafters dropped to join him, and the pair glided down to the doors that all those attending the meeting were leaving through. The remaining female called something to Polaris in a high pitched chatter, and received a wave of a wing in return; she placed her thumb claw - adorned with a silver ring, Dan noted with some amusement - on Henjo’s shoulder, and gave him a shy smile that shot heat straight to his groin.

“Shall we go?” she asked, and Henjo could do nothing but nod.

~*~

By the time Yoz arrived in the long room most of the seats were taken, but a flutter of wings and a high-pitched call brought them over to where Basti had saved them three places. The female he’d referred to as Chara stood a little way back from the chairs, directing fierce glares at any who tried to get too close to her Lord. A little taller than Polaris, her hair and skin fair, she seemed older; something in the hardness of the blue eyes promised instant mayhem if she was crossed. Old scars were apparent on her wing membranes, legs and stomach, and one of the claws on her leg had been replaced with a steel item that glittered wickedly in the light.

She bowed to Yoz, who bowed in return before embracing the bat with real fondness; Kai turned to Basti with raised eyebrows, and the young Lord shrugged.

“Chara and the Lady Yoz have fought beside each other before. It was a long time ago, but we do not forget our friends.”

The two women were speaking quietly, the bat’s face creasing into a smile at something Yoz said before she was gently - but firmly - pushed back toward her chair. Duty first, the gesture said, and Yoz chuckled as she stood behind the fine carvings that adorned the back of the oak chair. Kai was at her left, with Basti beyond him; Dirk stood quietly to her right, eyeing the company that surrounded them. To his right stood a most unusual creature, one that he had only seen in books before tonight.

“You are with the Lady Yolanda?” rumbled the centaur in Dirk’s ear, and he fought hard not to flinch when he looked up into the creature’s face. Strong features, cool dark eyes with the equine horizontal slot for a pupil, long grey hair and beard neatly braided to match the flowing tail; the centaur had a fine, dapple grey coat, and long white hair around his soup-plate hooves.

“Yes,” replied Dirk, and the centaur nodded.

“I am Hephaestus,” it said, holding out one enormous hand for Dirk to shake. He took it without hesitation; after all, when you’re going to be sitting next to a being that outweighs you by at least a ton it pays to be polite.

“Dirk,” he said, and smiled. The centaur’s face split - for just a moment - into a broad grin, and Dirk found his shoulder being patted by one of those hands that could probably engulf his whole head if they wanted to.

“You are very brave, for a human. First time?”

“Does it show?”

Hephaestus winked. “Only when you know what you’re looking for,” he whispered, in a boom that could probably be heard outside the castle. Yoz elbowed Dirk.

“Stop flirting.”

“Me?”

“You. Hello Hephaestus, stop flirting with him.”

“Yolanda! As _if_ I would.”

“I know you, you randy old stallion. Hooves off.”

Dirk shot a quick glance toward the stallion’s hindquarters, and swallowed hard. No, that wouldn’t be fun at all....

The shuffling and talking was brought to a halt by the banging of a gavel from the head of the table, and three figures - wearing, rather incongruously, grey business suits and carrying briefcases - took their places, and faced the assortment of people ranged along the massive table.

“Be seated, brothers and sisters,” said the woman in the centre, nodding gravely.

The archangel remained on his feet at the far end, although the demon sat down and just grinned.

“Sit down, Michael,” grumbled Yoz, “you’re making the place look untidy.”

The angel snarled at her, but did indeed take his place at the table. Kai saw a number of grins on the faces of those gathered, some hidden, some more open. Hephaestus snickered loudly, and Dirk couldn’t help but smile; Basti clicked his tongue, and leaned close to whisper in Kai’s ear.

“One day she will bait the angel too far. And then Heaven itself will destroy her.”

Kai blinked at the bat, who had managed to curl himself into the high backed chair in a good approximation of a human posture. “I thought,” he murmured in return, “that they were supposed to be a forgiving lot up there?”

Basti barked a laugh, covering it with a hasty cough. “Don’t you believe it,” he muttered in return, once he had his breath back. Kai snorted and shook his head, eyeing the three nondescript individuals at the head of the table.

He had a bad feeling about this, and it was only getting stronger.

 _~TBC~_


	8. Fire Below

_****_

Fire Below

 

In contrast to the buzz and chaos of the rest of the castle, the suite of rooms being used by the Rays plus one were peaceful, no noise save the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece and the steady crackle of the fire, warding off the late spring chill from the evening air. Eero was relaxed on the sofa with a good book, his eyelids beginning to droop in the somnolent peace, when the door to the suite crashed open to admit Dan, Henjo - and a nightmare.

Daniel scrambled to grab the youngster before he could work himself into hysterics. Book forgotten, halfway over the back of the sofa he fought to escape from Dan’s grasp, his breath whistling in his throat as he gave in to the mindless instinct to escape from the beast.

A slap as of leather against stone and the creature was before him, swooping over his head and turning to land with incredible precision right where he was going over the back of the couch. Eero froze, his hips wrapped around with Dan’s arms and his nose--

Well, his nose was hovering about a centimetre from an incredibly nice set of tits, and as though a switch had been thrown he felt the terror begin to subside, draining back until he was still scared - almost to death - but the blind panic had gone. He blinked at the breasts, dusky of skin with large brown nipples, full and firm and riding high with no signs of sagging at all.

Very, very nice indeed.

He blinked again, and tilted his head to see a little more of the owner of these wondrous globes. He saw a fine boned face staring down at him with liquid dark eyes, filled with warmth and humour. One eyebrow was raised, and a smile quirked one side of her mouth - and what a mouth, full lips that would be stunning for a touch of makeup - as she regarded him.

“Eero Kaukomies,” she said slowly, wrapping that sinful mouth around the words with great care, as though tasting their unfamiliarity, “I swear on my body and that of my Lord, on my honour and that of my people that no harm shall come to you. None shall pass me, and none shall attack you lest they die at my hand. I swear this to you as a warrior of the Vespertillo formidolosus, Polaris the high and cold.”

She bowed, spreading her wings and shaking them to hiss and sweep the floor, raising again and folding them at her sides, waiting for a reaction from the startled young Finn.

“Listen to her,” panted Dan, never loosening his grip in case Eero should try to leap from his arms in another panicked flight.

“Really,” added Henjo, hurrying to the creature’s side and flinging one arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side with a happy grin, “she’s awesome and on our side. Honest.”

“Which makes a nice change,” added Dan, sliding with Eero down onto the sofa and giving him a quick but noisy kiss. “Just don’t be freaked out by her, OK?”

Wriggling loose from Dan the youngster rolled from the sofa, and stared as Polaris stepped with inhuman grace to meet him. Wings folded elegantly back along her arms she reached her thumb hooks for him, wrists turned outward so that the gesture was as unthreatening as it could be from a five foot human bat, armed with lethal claws and razor sharp teeth. He took a deep breath, stepped forward and closed his hands over those wrists, smiling when her face lit up from within with a bright expression of fierce joy.

“You are a brave one, warrior Kaukomies,” she said. “I have seen human men run screaming from my appearance when not warned beforehand, and forever shudder when they see a bat at her hunt for the rest of their lives. Your hands are firm.”

“So will something else be if you keep looking at him like that,” said Dan, dryly, from the sofa. Eero blushed and Polaris laughed, a high, merry sound.

“As pleasant as this is,” she said, releasing Eero’s hands, her accent thick but melodic, the words flowing with a cadence pleasing for a musician’s ear, “they should be in session by now. Should we not be paying attention?”

Henjo snapped his fingers and hurried to the nearest patch of wall, perching himself on the window seat and running his long fingers over the grey stone with a gentle caress. He flattened his palm, beginning to drift his eyes shut before snapping them open with alarm.

“But how am I going to share with you?” he asked. Dan shrugged, but Polaris chuckled and began to herd the other two toward Henjo.

“You are all linked by the pendants you wear, which link you in turn to the Magus Yolanda.”

“Can’t get used to hearing her called that,” said Eero under his breath, and Dan slipped one arm around his waist and hugged him. Polaris smiled.

“It is her name. If you two sit close, like so,” and she guided them to perch alongside Henjo on the windowseat, Eero shuffling back between Dan’s legs until his back rested against his chest, the taller man propping his own back against the opposite side of the wall. “And take your pendants in your right hands. I shall touch the warrior Richter--”

“Call me Henjo, please!”

Polaris snorted and winked at him. “Very well then, Henjo it is. As I say, I shall touch him and forge the link - and I shall watch over you all while you observe.” She reached out one long arm, and caressed Eero’s cheek with the back of her thumb claw. “Be not afraid, little one. I am here.”

He smiled at her, not even finding it in him to object to her calling him little, and allowed his eyes to drift shut even as he clasped his pendant.

Henjo gripped his, stretched out his hand to lay against the wall, and made contact with the soul of the castle; Polaris laid one claw on his shoulder and the other on Dan’s knee. Closing her own eyes she called out, a high, thin musical note that vibrated along their spines with a not entirely unpleasant shudder, then made the connection.

And they were in each other’s minds, and falling into the consciousness of the very stones themselves.

~*~

The meeting had not begun well.

Thankfully, the three human leaders of the Rosicrucians - individuals who, according to Yoz, gave so much of themselves when selected to lead the organisation that they even gave up their names, going instead by the pseudonyms of Alpha, Omega and Balance - hadn’t tried to mess about with agendas or lists. They just stated the problem being faced, and threw the floor open for comments.

“First,” said a man further down the table amongst a group of individuals cloaked and masked in elaborate disguise, “can we be sure that the Illuminati are not privy to this meeting? We are all aware of what happened, to name the most recent, to the Harzburg and Guildford Houses...” he let his voice trail off into what he seemed to think would be a significant silence.

It never stood a chance.

A florid faced German shot to his feet, banging his fist on the table hard enough to make wine and water glasses jump and clink. He began to roar about security system designs, magical wards and hired guns who thought they were protecting a spoilt oil baron, landmines and booby traps and--

“And all of it useless,” sneered a voice that Kai recognised. Peter, the necromancer from the workshop, wrapped in robes far grander than the ones he had been wearing earlier but still with an expression that suggested he could smell something bad.

This sparked a furious row, some bolting to their feet, others waving their arms, some shouting and still more turning to their neighbours and beginning a far more private argument. Packed together as they were the sound swelled until the very walls trembled, the still shaky alliance threatening to fall apart before it had properly begun.

Hephaestus sighed, and leaned over to nudge Dirk with his elbow. As the centaur could not - obviously - use a chair designed for a human form he had curled his legs beneath him, resting on his equine chest atop a pad provided especially for him.

“Excuse me,” he said, warm, hay scented breath tickling Dirk’s cheek, “I just need to get a little noisy for a moment.”

Yoz snorted loud enough for Dirk to hear it over the tumult, and she shot him a quick wink. “He loves the drama these occasions afford,” she said with a grin, and poured herself a glass of water before sitting back and smiling at the screaming row unfolding. Hephaestus got to his feet, drew back a stride, then bunched his muscles and leaped up on to the surface of the table.

Kai felt a whisper in his mind, and knew that Yoz was strengthening the surface; a good idea, considering that a little over a ton of centaur had just landed on it with all four steel-shod feet.

He reared up, lashing his front hooves in the air and bringing them down on the wood with a ringing crash that had every eye in the place riveted on him. He turned, huge limbs dancing with his fury, tail swirling and brawny forearms raised to threaten any who would not be silenced. Advancing the length of the table at a slow, bouncing trot he had every individual he focused angry eyes on shrinking back in his or her seat as he roared for silence, whirling once more when Peter opened his mouth to speak, driving both forehooves into the surface of the table hard enough to leave two crushed areas in the surface that were the exact size and shape of his huge feet.

The room reduced to silence by his display he walked back along the table, eyeing each and every person as he did so. Reaching the end he dipped to one knee in an elegant bow, inclining his head and touching one fist to the opposite shoulder in salute.

“The floor is yours,” he growled.

The older woman in the centre of the trio - the one known as Balance - returned the gesture, and smiled somewhat as he rose to his feet and stalked back to his place, hopping down and turning neatly before dropping back to lie as he had before. Yoz nudged a pitcher of water his way, and he mumbled his thanks before draining it - not bothering with a glass - then thumping it down on the table with a sigh.

Kai leaned around Yoz’ back and tugged at the sleeve of Dirk’s jacket.

“We have _got_ to use him in a video sometime,” he hissed, then yelped when the Magus elbowed him.

Dirk just snorted, and waited to see what was going to happen next.

~*~

They remembered heat.

Volcanic liquidity, the ferocious first furnace of the planet’s birth that roiled and seethed along the underside of the semi-liquid matrix of the crystalline beginnings of the crust. Then the explosion to cool, time flickering past in a storm of images and sensations. The first rains, first oceans, the staggering blast of yet more time to wear that early rock to gravel, to sand, to dust, and then to be compressed and heated and subsumed back into molten freedom once more.

Another shove and the stone remembered being birthed once more, again and again the cycle of time and weathering and more time and--

Then a long sleep under the surface, a layer of unyielding granite, hearing surface water sinking through the ground to slide along the top layer, the dark whisperings of subterranean water - and other things - writhing far below. And always the heat and the pressure and all of a sudden it was cold, a crack of light enlarging and there were men with chisels and explosives.

Barely time to wake and see the sky before it was sliced, bisected and split and moved from its natal ground, each piece but a splinter of the overmind of the Earth, broken from the whole and crying.

Heaped by the hand of the naked ape, carved and worked and left to bake in the sun and freeze in the worst the surface weather could throw the pile of stones that was the castle began to see itself as a coherent, single entity. It learned from the souls of those that flowed through its halls, slept under the protection of its roofs, maintained it and poured themselves and their love and their lives into its service.

Individuals meant little. Tiny lives crawled fleeting across the granite, the slow sweep of the river something to anchor itself to, the memories of water and tree and life itself a comfort if it ever missed the anonymity of the great mass of the Earth, forever lost to it until time ground it once more to dust.

But emotions it felt, souls that cried out and strove for greater things. The black robed priests that sang to the glory of their God, the knights whose armour clashed in the halls as the hooves of their horses tore the ground of its courtyards. The sighing of the women at their tapestry, the screams of those who died as the halls burned. More, then, building and extending and fighting again, lances replaced with cannon and swords with rifles; a heartbeat, a breath - or so it seemed - and cannons were mortars and rifles machine guns. Death fell from the sky and the castle looked for protection, finding it in one who understood such things and carved the rosy cross above the door, never to be removed.

Peace once more, and the castle still slumbered in its loneliness, remembering every mouse that scuttled through its rafters and committing all to a memory that would last until it returned to earth, to share with every living thing that was part of the whole.

And magic.

Now there was magic, and the castle found itself stirred more than it had ever been since the chivalry of the knights errant had woken it to coherence with their noble desires - linked with their baser urges that had led to dark deeds in dark corners, the war of human nature played out over and over again at every level.

It had seen love and hate, drunk the blood of friend and enemy and risen through it all to brood here on its clifftop, watching the ever changing vista of the river and the landscape it was so much a part of. And now came a man who touched its soul, and it showed him all its memories and marvelled at his mind, that brief bright flicker that somehow encompassed its unimaginably long existence. And it did his bidding, charmed by the bravery and audacity of the one, and when he brought others it showed them, too.

Once more he asked, and the castle - content that its entirety would not be lost to the glitter and flash of the memory of man and beast - obliged him, focusing down to the adjunct to the great hall in time to see the centaur dance along the table, cowing those who were too afraid to consider the enormity of the situation. It remembered when the forest had been thick with Arcadians like these, and mourned the passing of so much magic.

Henjo gave the consciousness a nudge, and it focused once more in time to show them the next act of its long, long life.

~*~

The woman known as Balance eyed the now quiet gathering, taking in the varied faces ranged before her. The next announcement had to be made. It could not be put off any longer; they had all the ingredients here to defeat the enemy, but all must choose their path in freedom. And some would be so frightened by what they would see that they would run--

The time was now.

She raised her voice, and called forth the experimental alchemist to describe his wormhole incantation, to baffle some with the quantum geometrics of his modern magic and fascinate others. Eventually someone would ask - as many were thinking - about what such a new invention could be used for. She just hoped that one revelation would cancel out the terror and the fear of the other.

“How much power does it need?” asked someone, and Carl the alchemist told them.

Another roll of muttering. That much power was almost unimaginable even here, amongst those that ranked as the most powerful of their professions, or breeds, or species. Impossible, said the voices. Never. It cannot be done... and as expected, another voice spoke up - this one as amused and sardonic as ever, daring any and all to disagree.

“I can provide it,” said Yoz.

The storm of rumbling rolled through the room, shaking the high tapestries that looked down on the proceedings with their representations of doe-eyed maidens and brave knights. Their faded colours trembled at her words, and their ancient threads vibrated with the surprise of the gathering when she waved her thumb over her shoulder with a sharp jerk at her companion.

“Through him,” she added, and Kai flinched under the sudden glares that sliced through the tension-thickened air toward him.

This time cries for her to prove it, that no mere human could contain the power needed to open a wormhole big enough to ship the forces that would be needed to destroy the opposition. One voice finally struggled above all the others, and the mob fell silent to allow the male representative of Hell to speak.

“If I can’t do it,” said the demon, “and it can’t do it,” flicking a hand dismissively at the now glowering archangel at the end of the table, “how are we all supposed to believe that you can? Sorry, you _and_ your pet rockstar.”

Yoz looked innocent and spread her hands wide. “The reason you two cannot do it - although your ruling deities have enough power to do it without turning so much as a hair - is the agreement they both have not to touch the earth directly. You can both bring fellows to the fight because that’s you exercising your free will, right? It’s a small distinction,” she added, “but an important one.”

Hephaestus nodded. “Were Yahweh and Lucifer both to touch this plane direct and not through their puppets-” Michael and the demon both glared, Yoz not bothering to hide her grin at the centaur’s words, “- then it would kickstart the final war between Heaven and Hell.”

“Armageddon,” said Dirk softly, and Hephaestus nodded.

“Which would be even less fun than what we’re doing now,” added Yoz.

Kai sat as quiet as a mouse and wondered what the Hell - no pun intended - Yoz was up to this time; she was now jeering at several individuals who were so angry as to be almost foaming at her, then turned to speak sharply to the archangel that was glaring at her with a decidedly un-angelic twist to those beautiful lips. A hook brushed his shoulder, and he turned to see Basti watching him with those huge dark eyes, amused and compassionate at the same time.

“She knows what she’s doing,” he murmured. “You wear her heart - she would not be making such a fuss unless she was absolutely certain you can do all she tells of, and more. Be easy, friend Kai.”

He snorted, then swallowed hard when Yoz turned to him with a wink.

“I need you to show them what you’ve got,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“I can’t,” he replied through clenched teeth, so unnerved by the silent, hostile regard that he felt his balls try to crawl up into his body.

“Oh yes you can,” she grinned, and began to talk to him more earnestly in that cool, soothing voice. She told him to close his eyes, and travel back to the last time he’d been truly happy. That was easy, and a smile creased his features as he remembered the gig with Iron Saviour, the one he and Dirk had guested at before all this madness had kicked off backstage. Her voice faded, and he felt her mind guiding him into the very heart of the memory; the smell of the crowd after they had been rocking all night, the surge of adrenaline when they screamed his name. That feeling of surfing the wave of sweat and adoration and wonder and power - because that’s what it was, power in its rawest, purest form - knowing you could demand anything of _this_ mob at _this_ time and they would do it. You could rule the world with a feeling like that, and it screamed along his spine and lit something deep inside of his soul that no amount of darkness could ever, ever extinguish.

“Hold that thought,” murmured Yoz, and helped him drop the shielding that had become second nature to him.

Soft murmurs of surprise that turned to an excited buzz, from buzz to shout to bellow until almost the entire crowd were on their feet, staring and shouting at the prodigy in their midst that hid so well from them beneath the skin of a mere human.

Still burning with that feeling of invincibility Kai rose to his feet, wondering if he was glowing as brightly as he felt. From Basti’s grin and Peter the necromancer’s shocked face he guessed that he probably did.

“Comrades,” called Yoz, her voice slicing through the din, “I give you our instrument of light, our sword against the dragon of darkness. Ladies and gentlemen and all creatures in between - Kai Hansen.”

And between them, they brought the house down.

~*~

Polaris crowed with delight into Henjo’s mind, and he hugged her with a snort. Kai was loving it, the enjoyment gleaming in every line of his body as he bowed to the crowd, acknowledging their cries of surprise and startled wonder.

 _Is he always like this?_ her voice said, and all three came back with the same answer, as immediate as thought.

 _Nope - sometimes he’s worse...._

The bat laughed again, and all four returned to watching the scene unfolding below them.

~*~

The discussion had begun to descend toward bickering once more when a single voice spoke up and asked what, precisely, were they going to do now? They had a method to reach the Illuminati headquarters and take the battle to them. They had the means to open it and maintain it. But where would it need to go, and would hitting the main base - if indeed they even had one - mean an end to this war?

Balance looked at Alpha, who rose to his feet and spent several minutes staring at the assembled throng, committing the faces to memory in order to record this night accurately for future generations. If they survived, of course.

“The Illuminati do indeed have a main base, and we know where it is. We’ve known for centuries. But it has been a symbol only since the last time they tried to obliterate all light in this part of our Universe....”

“Basti can best tell of that, I think,” said Yoz, keeping one eye on the owner of the castle. He pulled a face; his dislike of non-humans was, she had discovered, notorious. And having to swallow the fact that it was a nonhuman that had the best grasp of this part of history would stick quite nicely in his throat, thank you very much.

And she liked the sound of Basti’s voice. Hell with it.

She gave a little mental nudge to the pompous, be-suited individual staring at Basti. Alpha blinked, then gestured toward the bat. “By all means. Lord Basti?”

The bat took a sip from his glass of wine, twitching his sharp pointed ears as he picked up the occasional low grumble of discontent.

“My people were present at the last battle, some ten thousand years before the Order was even thought of - human ‘civilisation’ was still at a very unsophisticated level, and so it was mostly nonhumans that took part.”

He folded his wing claws on the table before him, flickered his tongue across his lips and spoke up again, his tone dropping into the sing-song cadence of one repeating something learned by heart a very long time ago.

“The planet was a very different place then, warmer and wetter and gentler to her children. Prey was more plentiful, and so were we - we thronged across the Earth, and we were all as brothers that sang beneath the stars as we had since the world was new. Mankind was finding his feet, and we welcomed him into the fold of sentience with much joy, for it had been long since we had a new race to teach and show the stars to. The avatars of the Darkness were there, as they always had been, for where there is Light you must have Darkness, lest you scorch in the fire.”

He shook his head and smiled. “It goes on like that for a while. Then it continues: the Dark began to stir, and stung our Mother Gaia with such ferocity that she roared, injuring her children with the rage that came from her very centre. The skies darkened, and we feared that the ice would begin to linger at the ends of the Earth and engulf us all - for there were no ice caps then.”

“He’s talking about before the last ice age,” said Dirk in a whisper of wonder, and Yoz nodded.

“Mankind,” continued Basti with a smile at the amazed bassist, “was beguiled by the whispers from beyond the circle of his campfires, and some tribes came to us and to the Arcadians and told us of this. Some of the sons of Adam have ever been tempted by the promises of greatness that drift from out of the Dark....”

“Some things never change,” said Yoz, and her voice was sad. Dirk gave her thigh a squeeze under the table, and she sighed.

“And so to preserve ourselves we fought back. Many fought beside us that no longer walk the Earth, many more that lived in such throngs in those times they blackened the skies and darkened the Earth they marched across, those that now cling to their existence in the dry, cold corners that Man has driven them to. And the Men - for they were true Men, honest and brave and bold - marched at the fore, determined to prove to us all that the dishonour of their kind was not what lay in their hearts.”

“Get on with it,” grumbled Gunther, and Yoz hissed at him.

“Aye?” said Basti, and took another sip of his wine. “Well then. We fought, and the legends of the battles are too many to sing of here. We took the day, but many were lost and the wounded lay in drifts, the seas running red with their blood and the very skies trembled with their screams. Worst hurt of us all was Mother Gaia herself; she drew back from Father Sun, twisted in her skin and pushed her Sister Moon away, trying to end herself with the pain the Dark caused her when it realised it was losing. The coastlines changed, the weather, the continents themselves forced into a new pattern. All scattered, and cowered in our homes until the tumult had stopped - and what a world we emerged to! The base of the Dark still stood, but now it was shrouded in the permanent ice and snow of the pole, moved south and forced to exert all its remaining power to avoid being crushed by the ice that spread across the rest of our Mother, smothering and strangling the grace and beauty that had gone before.”

“The last ice age?” asked Kai, his eyes wide, and Basti nodded. The smile had gone from his face, and lines of sorrow creased the noble brow.

“Many tales are still told of that terrible time. Amongst humanity, they survive as tales of flood and ultimate cataclysm, the saving of them being credited to whichever deity holds their heart at the time.”

Michael snorted rudely. Basti ignored him.

“The Dark now has a name - Illuminati - and once more beguiles Man with false promises. The base is still there, although we thought it no more than a symbol. From Alpha’s expression, I suspect we were all wrong.”

The grey haired man nodded. “Indeed, Lord Basti. They have found a way to revive the fortunes of their earliest home, and strike at us from there with ever increasing power. They must be stopped.”

Peter the necromancer sat forward and tapped his wineglass against the table. “For those of us not privy to the information, would you mind telling us _where_ this mythical place is?”

“It is no myth,” snapped Omega, the broad face folding into a scowl. The light reflected from his ebony skin, and his black eyes flashed fire.

“And the place is known these days,” said Yoz, pitching her voice to carry and watching Peter’s face, “as Antarctica.”

~*~

Henjo started up with a shout, and Polaris had to struggle to hold the minds of the three humans together. So shocked were they by this revelation - and, of course, realising that it put their enemy effectively beyond their reach - that they tried to withdraw from the link, disentangle themselves from the minds of stone and each other to pace and shout just as the crowd in the hall were doing.

But Polaris was stronger, and Henjo joined his will to hers as soon as the initial shock had passed through him. He helped her to clamp Dan and Eero’s minds to their purpose, reminding them how important it was to have the overall view rather than the limited vision of those that sat in the midst of the throng.

Still reeling, they quieted to watch once more - unaware that the four of them now huddled together, clutching each other in a combination of excitement and fear.

~*~

Basti wrapped his wings around himself, and sat back in his chair to watch the shouting and arguing of the humans with an inscrutable expression on his face. Kai, stunned, turned to him.

“Is all that true?”

The bat smiled, rather sadly. “Every word. We have all suffered mightily since then, friend Kai.”

Without thinking, Kai leaned forward and touched Basti’s arms, staring hard into his eyes with absolute honesty. “We’ll help. Any way we can, I swear.”

He found his hands gripped by agile, many jointed long thumbs, claws resting against his skin but their power controlled to grip, not hurt. Basti’s skin was warm, smooth, and the pain in his eyes made Kai want to cry. More claws rested on his shoulders from behind, Chara stepping in to put her presence as close to her Lord as she could.

“That is from your heart?” asked Basti, and Kai pressed his lips together and nodded.

“Every word,” he replied, the truth of the statement shining in his eyes.

He found himself enfolded in wings, the soft membrane wrapped around his shoulders and pulling him into the wide, powerful chest. Claws gripped his back, Basti’s face nuzzling his neck and breathing words of gratitude into his skin. Then the bats were gone, the Lord to leap on the table and beat his wings for silence, Chara to hover and circle amongst the rafters, watching the crowd for violence. One wrong move toward the king of the bats would be met with swift retribution.

As Hephaestus before him, Basti roared for quiet, then began to flutter and bound along the table, almost dancing claws and great wings so gracefully every eye was riveted on him. He turned and lashed his tail, snarling at the tumult surrounding him.

“ENOUGH! This man here, he is one of the True men of old!”

“Oh Christ,” muttered Dirk, sliding down in his seat to the centaur’s quiet amusement.

“Can any one of you answer the honesty and fire in his heart? Or shall you all cower before the Dark as you have been doing for ten thousand years and more? My brothers are gone, but the forces of Light can still fight - if you show half the bravery of this man here! One man, and he shames you all by showing your cowardice! What say you?”

He turned to Alpha, crouching and snapping. The grey haired man just sighed, folding his hands before him and meeting Basti’s glittering eyes with a steady, cool gaze of his own.

“Return to your seat, sir. If you would care to watch the screen behind me, you will find your questions answered; we have come into posession of the notes and journals of one of the Illuminati high command, recently deceased by the ordinances of Magus Yolanda and the creature called Styx. Thus, we have learned not only the why but the how of the recent attacks.”

“Why is always the same,” said Michael, the angel toying with the stem of his wineglass.

“I am interested in the how, though,” added Peter, narrowing his eyes. Basti hissed, returning to his seat and shuffling his wings with agitation; Kai touched his side, frowning.

“You OK?”

“I will be,” he muttered, baring his teeth at the castle’s owner who now leaned over to whisper in the ear of the black-robed necromancer.

The room lights darkened - which, as Dirk muttered to Yoz, was a neat trick with candles - and images of the documents, relevant passages highlighted, began to appear on the walls. Yoz sat back in her chair, reading them with her usual expression of disinterest firmly in place - right up until she got halfway down the first document. Eyes widening she shot bolt upright, swearing a blue streak under her breath then jumping from her seat to pace closer to the walls, trotting around the room to examine different stretches of projection. Eventually she swung round, addressing Omega with a scowl.

“I need hardcopy. You got it?”

“At your place, Magus.”

She spun to look, and her eyes widened when she saw the stack of notes and binders that had not been there a moment before.

Kai was impressed. It took a lot to make Yoz speechless, but the ease with which the documents had been slipped under her nose to the table seemd to have done the trick. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the table, interrupted as the three leaders rose to their feet. Omega spoke, his voice rich and sonorous enough to cut through the uproar which had exploded yet again.

“I call a recess to study the research material - we shall re-convene after we have broken our fast tomorrow. Is that acceptable to all?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoz muttered, grabbing the stack of papers with one hand and Dirk with the other. Kai and Basti exchanged glances as she almost ran from the room, dragging a protesting Dirk behind her even as Omega continued to explain to those still listening that quarters had been prepared and--

“I believe heading back to your rooms would be a good idea,” smiled the bat, and there was something in the glint in those dark eyes that made Kai grin.

~*~

They watched until all had left the hall, spreading throughout the castle to gather in knots and groups to shout or whisper or plot, then broke the link and separated. Henjo held his connection for a moment longer, letting the pads of his fingers trail along the cool skin of the castle while he thanked it for all its help. He had to smile when the response he received was the equivalent of a wagged tail; when one saw the silhouette of the castle brooding against the skyline one didn’t tend to think that its mind could wriggle with happiness like a puppy.

Blinking his eyes open he realised he still had one arm looped around Polaris’ waist, pulling her back between his thighs until she rested snugly against his chest. Her long black hair whispered against the skin of his neck as she turned to eye him with a knowing smile, patting his knee with a thumb hook.

“You can let go of me now.”

Henjo rested his chin on her shoulder and grinned.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” he told her, and she laughed before gently extricating herself from his grasp and moving away to speak with Dan and Eero. They were waving their arms and shouting about what they had seen, both hovering on the edge of panic and wondering - loudly - what the Hell they would do next.

Leaning over to brace his arms on crossed legs Henjo thought he’d let them argue for a bit. At least until his erection went down enough for him to walk, that was.

~*~

“Dammit Yoz, slow down!” shouted Dirk, pulling back on the hand that had his wrist in a death grip. She halted, causing him to run into the back of her and throw his arms around her to stop them both from falling down the stairs she was engaged in dragging him up.

“Dirk mate, this stuff is making my brain fizz. Did you read any of it? And I missed it lying around after Styx had got through slaughtering everybody. Shit!”

He leaned back against the wall, keeping his arms around the Magus and pulling her into his body. She felt warm against him, and alive, vibrating with the mixture of excitement and fear that had driven her from the meeting in such a rush.

“No. It is some sort of code?”

“Fuck! I forgot. You can’t read it - well, soon as we get back I’ll sort that out for you. But what they’re doing--” and she shuddered in his grasp, actually leaning in to him and resting her forehead against his throat for a second, sighing. “Let’s just say that if I hadn’t dragged you lot out on this trip as quick as I did you’d be in the fucking freezer right now.”

“What?”

She wriggled free, grabbed his hand and began to drag him back toward the rooms once more. “I’ll explain later. But right now we have to move!”

~*~

By the time Yoz and Dirk crashed through the door to the suite the pandemonium within had calmed somewhat. Polaris was perched on the back of the sofa, arguing with Henjo that she really should be going to find Basti; she was arching her wings over him and flexing her feet on the back of the piece of furniture, and Henjo was ignoring the ripping noises coming from the beleagured couch by watching her breasts tremble above him.

Dan and Eero, figuring that as soon as the others got back things were probably just going to get louder, had sent down a request to the kitchen for pots of coffee and bottles of wine, and were even now emptying the dumb waiter of the provided goodies. Sure enough, as soon as their Magus arrived Polaris took off, doing a tight lap of the room before landing in front of Yoz and dancing on her toes, demanding to know where her Lord was.

Kai’s red-faced, panting arrival coincided with a scratching at the window; so out of breath all he could do was gesture, Eero took the hint and threw the window wide, ducking as a storm of wings beat over his head. Basti, Apodis and Chara swept into the room, somehow avoiding a collision and adding their voices to the tumult. Henjo found himself surrounded by three sets of breasts, and didn’t know where to look first; Yoz was shouting about documents and power and fire and ice, Kai was talking to Basti between great gulps of air and Dirk had hold of his arm, demanding to know what the fuck was going on.

Dan looped an arm around Eero’s shoulders and the pair watched the chaos for a moment. Eventually Dan shook his head, and the young man at his side laughed under his breath.

“QUIET!” yelled Dan, and the eight individuals across the room shut up and blinked at him, startled by his roar. He snorted. “Well, you all obviously have a lot to talk about, so if you don’t mind we’re going to bed.”

And with that, they grabbed a bottle of wine, two glasses, and left.

Basti blinked at Kai. “They are--?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Dan likes ‘em young, we think.”

A faint bellow of ‘I heard that, Hansen!’ came through the door, and Basti flung his head back and roared with laughter. Once he’d calmed himself he looked deep into Kai’s eyes, the glitter in them now dark and volcanic, hinting at depths of passion that Kai could only dream of. He grinned, and now his voice was low and hot beneath the gleaming white of his too-sharp teeth.

“So. If you accept that coupling, does that mean you are not averse to it yourself?”

“No,” said Yoz from where she was cracking into another of the bottles, “it means he’ll fuck anything that moves and a few things that don’t.”

“Fuck _you_.”

“Not tonight, baby. I need to read this shit and I’ll talk to you in the morning, OK? And,” she added, scooping two wine glasses into her other hand and jerking her head toward the bedroom, “I need company and you’re it, Schlachter. Come on.”

Henjo snorted at her, then turned to speak to Kai only to spot him vanishing into his room accompanied by Basti, another of the bottles of wine and two glasses. He threw his arms in the air, letting them drop to his side with a curse; the two new bats - who now introduced themselves, the older female being Chara and the younger Apodis - shot him a sympathetic glance then took off vertically, attaching themselves to the beams of the roof and nudging their bodies close together, nuzzling at each other while they made themselves comfortable. Polaris laughed at the look of utter lust that spread across Henjo’s face at the sight.

“They will stand guard for us here tonight.”

“You sure? They look a bit... busy.”

Polaris stroked one thumb claw down Henjo’s arm and shot him a smile so wicked it made him shiver with anticipation. “They will be aware of intruders, never fear. And there is one bottle of wine left - so I suggest we leave the coffee for them, and take the wine to your room.”

“Are you suggesting...?”

“I have been in your mind, warrior Richter. I know what you want. And I have never had a human male before....”

Henjo grabbed the bottle and a brace of glasses, looping his arm around her waist and steering her toward the door of his room. He cast a last, longing glance at the two females nuzzling and writhing against each other in the gloom of the roof space, and laughed. “Then I’ll have to see what I can do to remedy that, won’t I?”

Her laughter was cut off by the heavy slam of the oak door, and the two bats were left to their vigil - and their loving - in peace.

~*~

Eero was lying on the bed, shirtless, fingers laced behind his head. Dan perched beside him, and took a swallow of his wine. The lad was so beautiful stretched out like that, the low light of the bedside lamp gilding the lines of muscle in his chest and throwing every detail of his throat into sharp relief. Daniel sighed, and ran one finger along the smooth bicep, tracing the line down to the chest and ending up smoothing his palm over the nipple, smiling when Eero sighed and closed his eyes, shifting into the gentle touch.

“You were very brave out there,” said Dan. Eero chuckled.

“It was easy. Polaris meant everything she said - we’re quite safe while the Vespertillo are here.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “You believe her? Just like that?”

Dazzling blue eyes shone up at him, filled with amusement. “The link she opened - it was like a door, right?”

Dan nodded, and Eero sat up, reaching long fingers to stroke along Dan’s thigh. “A door, once it’s opened, goes both ways. I could see her mind - some of it, anyway. And Henjo’s. And,” and he moved closer, dropping a quick, shy kiss on Dan’s lips, “yours.”

Before either of them could say anything else the unmistakable sound of Kai’s yelp rang through the suite. This was followed by a sound that could only be Yoz - because it trailed off into a roar of very dirty laughter - and then a gleeful holler that they recognised as Henjo.

“Dirty bastards,” said Dan with a fond grin.

The next sound confused them both; a rustling, squeaking noise punctuated by soft groans and sighs. Curious, Eero got up and padded to the door, cracking it open and peering through. He looked around, down - and finally up. What he saw had his shoulders shaking with laughter, and he beckoned Dan over with a frantic wave of his hand. Dan joined him, and followed his gaze up to the rafters.

“Oh...my...good...God...” said Dan under his breath. Eero, hand over his mouth to quiet his own chuckling, pointed out that the blonde was Chara and the brunette Apodis. Although the way they were twisting themselves together it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began; their hair swung and twined below them, sometimes drifting to one side to show mouths locked in a passionate kiss, breasts pressed together, wings caressing and stroking. Apodis dropped her head back with a sigh, eyes closed in ecstasy while the older Vespertillo nibbled along her throat, tiny licks soothing the sting of the sharp teeth. She cracked her eyes open, spotted the two men watching them and smiled, snickering something under her breath to the other bat.

Watching the reactions of the men below Chara moved behind Apodis, pressing herself to the other bat’s back. She nuzzled her face into the younger creature’s neck, and began to stroke the skin of her breasts with her thumb claw; Apodis dropped her head back and sighed, nipples hardening under the caress of the cool hook.

Dan swallowed hard.

To a background symphony of passionate cries coming from the other rooms Chara continued her gentle assault on her companion. Her other arm snaked around her waist, trapping the youngster’s wings against her sides, the claw now combing through the dark thatch of fur between her thighs. Apodis hissed, turning her face to kiss Chara, groaning into her mouth as she spread the fingers carrying her wing membranes and teased across her skin with them, cupping the weight of her breasts within the softness of her skin.

Eero groaned aloud when Apodis arched against Chara, sighing her joy into the other woman’s throat, and Chara watched him with wide, grey eyes.

“Come on,” he gasped, and grabbed Dan’s hand to drag him back into the room.

Chara laughed, then wrapped her companion in her wings to finish what she’d begun.

~*~

Yoz paced the room, reading through the papers and muttering, cigarette in her hand leaving a trail of blue grey smoke that criss-crossed the room behind her. Dirk watched her for a moment, then undressed and sat cross legged on the bed with a glass of wine. She paused by the dressing table where he’d left one for her, took a sip.

“Good stuff,” she said, then put it down and began to pace again, muttering.

“So what’s in the papers?” he asked, smiling at the sight of the Magus deep in research. This was the core of her, he reckoned; her expression was open, flickering between surprise and disgust and deep concentration, no shield up to hide behind. What he could see was Yolanda herself - and he suspected that very few got such a look.

She stopped and eyed him, expression sliding to a wicked smile when she saw that he was naked.

“Trying to distract me?”

He stretched out on his side and raised his glass to her. “Is it working?”

She looked at the papers in her hand and sighed, carefully putting them on the table then grabbing her glass and coming across to perch on the bed next to him. “That can wait. And yeah, it might be.” She shook her head and, muttering under her breath, eyes unfocused and mind clearly still on what she’d read, tossed the surcoat aside and began to unlace the corset.

He propped his head on one hand, and took another sip of his wine as he watched her undress. “Care to share?” he said, and she snorted.

“To get enough power to restore the Antarctic base to full operation the Illuminati have been sweeping through every city on the planet, every village, every hamlet, and stealing people. Anyone with power, especially if they only had a bit and weren’t aware of it. More powerful ones too, but mainly the charlatans with a glimmer, the street magicians with just enough knowledge to stay one step ahead of the law.”

Naked now, she faced him with one hand on her hip, the other waving her cigarette in illustration of her words. “Then they’ve been shipping them down to their base - don’t know how yet - and draining them. Some bright spark on their team has figured out how to do that - drain and store the energy of souls, tap it and use it. And then the bodies are stored until they can be used as avatars for the Dark - remember the guy in Nuremberg? Like him.”

Dirk swore under his breath, and she poured herself another glass of wine. “Yeah. Vile, innit?”

He swallowed what was left in his glass and poured himself another one, lighting a cigarette then sitting up cross legged, fiddling with glass and smoke as he watched her. She began to pace again, this time with glass and cig as opposed to papers, and he eyed the agitated swirling of the tattoos across her body as she spoke.

She told him of the storage facility, the rack upon rack of bodies held in freezing stasis for when the Dark decided to launch its final attack - an entire, vast army of soulless bodies, with no purpose other than to destroy.

“And we can’t stop ‘em with necromancy,” she said, brow furrowed, thinking aloud, “because they’re not really dead. And it takes a hell of a hit to stop them, because they ignore wounds, ignore pain - they just keep going until they’re out of blood, or limbs. Then the Dark animates them and they’re off again. Yeah, _then_ we can use necromancy but fuck - we’re going to have to boil them alive to stop them. Slowing them down is going to be almost impossible.”

She paused, turning to eye him. Opening her mouth to continue she stopped, a very odd expression crossing her face.

“What?” he asked, his throat almost shut with the horror of what she’d described.

“You appear,” she said, slowly, “to still have a perfectly serviceable erection. I wasn’t aware that the demon had twisted you up that badly.”

They both stared at his groin, his cock cheerfully bobbing against his stomach, weeping a little with excitement. He scowled, grabbed a pillow and hid it.

“Oh. Oh...oh _shit_.”

“What?”

Yoz put her wineglass down, then smacked herself in the face with her free hand. Dirk blushed.

“Fuck it. I knew I’d forget something.”

“ _What?_ ”

She spread her fingers and peered between them, beginning to chuckle. The chuckle became a laugh, which then changed to a full blown howl of amusement. She crashed down on the bed, flopping on her back and hooting with delight.

Dirk began to grit his teeth.

“Yoz--”

She wriggled around, dragging him down and rolling herself on top of him, rubbing herself against him like a great cat. “I kind of...forgot something about hanging out with the Vespertillo. You guys are probably going to have a wicked case of priapism by the morning. I should go get some ice packs ready now, in fact.”

He counted to ten, then sighed. “What are you talking about?”

She stole one of his cigarettes, lit it, then rolled to her side. “It’s Basti. If you listen--” and sure enough, sounds of passionate screwing could be heard throughout the suite, “-- you can hear you’re all affected.”

“By _what_ , Yoz?”

“It’s a very neat little evolutionary design solution. Bit disastrous for other species but works just fine in context.”

Dirk passed her a full wineglass and hoped she would get to the point. His balls were already beginning to ache.

“You see, you have a colony. Hundred individuals, maybe, if you don’t include subadults - and one adult male. That means he has to do a lot of seed-sowing on a regular basis, and if they all had regular seasons he’d be knackered once a month or whatever. And a male’s commitment to his colony is long term, not just a season; so he has to spread himself more equally.”

She began to laugh. “Which means - stay with me, we’re getting to the good bit - that when he’s feeling randy he puts out this pheromone which makes every non pregnant, non nursing female bat within scenting range as horny as all get out. They all converge on him, he gets as many as he can handle and when he’s sated he stops.”

“But,” said Dirk, and she grinned.

“Yeah. But. It explains why all the Vespertillo aren’t picky about male or female; when they get a whiff of his scent, they go crazy. If they can’t get a male they’ll keep each other company, if you see what I mean. I daresay our two guards out there are as busy as everyone else is right now.”

“But why--”

“It works on males too. When the boys hit adolescence they move off from the colony, join up with a bachelor group. And what is there that’s randier than an adolescent male anything?”

“So they fuck each other,” said Dirk, his eyes widening as the implications began to sink in.

“Right. And, I’m sorry to say, it works on pretty much every sentient species we’ve come across so far.”

“Oh. Oh...fuck.”

“Yeah. I don’t know if Basti starting putting it out before we left the hall - I think it was Kai’s promise of help that sparked his interest - but if he did, I’d be ever so glad I’m not rooming next to Hephaestus, if I were you.”

Remembering the enormous centaur stallion Dirk shuddered. “So what can we do about it?”

She straddled his thighs, leaning forward to press him back to the bed and grinning into his face. “Absolutely nothing until it wears off. Except make the most of it,” she added, wriggling her hips over his.

Dirk grinned back.

“Oh, good,” he said, and pulled her into a deep, hot kiss.

~*~

Polaris managed to stay out of Henjo’s grasp just long enough to pour two glasses of wine, then allowed him to pull her into his chest. She cocked her head, looking into his eyes and smiling; her expression was so open and honest that, for a moment, Henjo felt a twinge of conscience.

Just the one. And then the crush of her breasts against him soon drove that thought right out of his head.

“You really are not afraid of me, are you?” she asked, and there was wonder in her tone. He grinned at her, holding her close enough that she could feel the press of his cock into her belly. Laughing, she raised one thumb hook and ran it through his hair; he was surprised to feel that the pad of the elongated digit was soft, and when she ran it across his face he caught it with his lips, dropped a quick kiss to it. She hissed in surprise, black eyes wide.

“Should I be afraid of you?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No. Not tonight. But tell me,” and she plucked at his shirt with a wingtip, the ends of the elongated fingers agile enough to twist the fabric, “why you are still wearing this covering, when we are alone? Do you have such a fear of revealing your body?”

Henjo roared with laughter, setting her back from himself while he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. She stepped back, picking up a glass of wine and sipping from it, the heat in her eyes only increasing as she watched him disrobe. He wondered - a flash of thought only - if she wouldn’t find his nakedness ridiculous; then again, she was curious so--

Not giving himself time to think about it any more he opened his arms to her, grinning. She nodded, pacing around him while she looked. Eyeing every inch of his flesh she ran that lethal claw across his skin, the touch cool and gentle and not nearly as frightening as it should have been. Trailing her wings around him he groaned as she caressed him with the soft, warm wing membranes, using them to cup and touch and tickle every inch of his body.

He looped his arms around her neck, and when she tilted her head to look up at him he dipped his mouth and kissed her. A soft brush of lips at first, then a flick of his tongue across that sinfully full lower lip; she opened her mouth in surprise, letting a soft exhalation escape as he licked at her mouth, engaging her tongue, stroking the inside of her cheeks. He leaned back, nuzzled into her hair and groaned as she wriggled against him; something in the way she smelt - warm and female, spicy and exotic - was making him harder than he’d ever been in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to get inside this ravishing creature, as soon as he could. If not sooner.

Letting her guide him to the bed, he stretched out on top of the covers and propped himself on his elbows to watch as she perched atop his hips, kneeling over him with a wicked smile. Taking his glass of wine he sipped at it, enjoying the flavour even as she dipped her head to lap along his collarbone, the barest scrape of those needle sharp teeth soothed by a lick of that long, warm tongue.

She took the glass from him, placed it with hers beside the bed; he sighed as she began to lick her way down his body, feeling her muscular tail tickling his shins and curling around his ankles, the soft, leathery triangle at the tip pressing against his flesh.

Crawling back up him, she licked her lips, straddling him and preparing to lower herself onto his cock. He grabbed her waist, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey, don’t you want to wait? Take your time?”

She wriggled from his grasp and sank herself upon him, tearing a groan from his throat as he felt the sharp heat envelop him. Damn, but she was hot; the soft folds that enveloped him making him shudder with their slick, ridged softness. Higher body temperature, guessed the part of his mind that wasn’t going _oh, fuck...._

She arched her back, dropping her head back and spreading her wings wide, beating them on either side of him as she writhed her muscular body down on him, drawing him into her body until his balls were firmly pressed against her arse. Wrapping her wings on each side of his head she leaned down, shuddering as she rubbed her breasts against his chest, gripping his sides with her knees and baring her teeth. He felt her tail slide around his legs, pulling them together then releasing them; it never paused in its constant caressing, wrapping around an ankle, stroking his thigh, writhing along the bed.

“We have plenty of time,” she murmured to him, and with that cryptic comment began to lift herself, sliding up and down his cock in a dance so slow and sensual he thought he was going to lose his mind.

Reaching to wrap his arms around her waist he was frustrated by her wing membranes; she chuckled at him, never stopping the maddening squirm along his body, sweat beginning to shine on the skin of her breasts. Grumbling, Henjo just reached around, gathering the skin in his arms, and locked his hands in the small of her back. To his surprise, the wings were incredibly flexible as well as soft; they felt like fine suede under his fingers, and he moaned as she wriggled forward enough to lap the end of his chin with that impossibly long, agile tongue.

“Well done,” she growled, and did something with her internal muscles that made him yelp, arching his back and bucking his hips up to thrust into her. She hissed, pinning his shoulders to the bed with her thumb claws and beginning to fuck him, pounding her hips against him in a hard, fast rhythm that drove him - screaming her name - to a crashing orgasm. She clutched him inside once more, and shrilled a war cry as she felt his seed burst inside of her, shuddering and pulsing his way to completion.

He collapsed, panting and blind. Stretching out on top of him, letting his still hard cock slip from her superheated depths, she made a sound that he could only describe as a purr and waited for him to regain enough breath to speak.

Cracking one eye open he watched her, having to snort at the smug expression she was wearing.

“Good?”

That purring again, and he pulled her closer into his chest before something else occurred to him.

“Um,” he said, dipping to drop a quick kiss on the smiling lips, “not that I’m complaining, but I seem to still be....”

She blinked sparkling black eyes open, and explained about the pheromones.

“Oh. So that’s why you said--”

“We have plenty of time, warrior Richter,” she murmured against his mouth, then turned herself around to swallow his cock into her throat.

It was, thought Henjo with a touch of delirium even as he howled again, going to be a long night.

~*~

Kai didn’t wait to be invited, throwing his clothes around the room haphazardly as soon as the door shut behind him. Basti leaped onto the bed, flapping those great wings and leering at Kai, his erection emerging from its sheath to curve before him like a scarlet sword. Pausing in front of the bed Kai cocked his head, grinning up at the man waiting for him with every indication of excitement.

“That’s different,” he snorted, and Basti arched his back and took a step closer, showing himself off. Pulsing with his heartbeat his cock was long and thick, the skin fine and damp, lined with the elegant arch and twist of veins that throbbed along its surface. Kai reached out his hand and touched it, drawing a hiss from the bat as he let his fingers roam across it, exploring the pointed head, running the pads of his fingers through the clear fluid beginning to leak from the tip then bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean and drawing a growl from Basti.

Taking Basti’s hips in his hands he pulled him closer, eyeing him for a moment before dipping his head and lapping at the end of his cock. The bat groaned, lifting his face to the ceiling, his hair cascading down his back in an ebony waterfall. Running his tongue along the strange cock Kai closed his eyes, tasting and feeling the altered surface before sucking the end into his mouth.

The bat yelped, beating his wings before wrapping them around Kai, enveloping him in warm, sweet smelling, exotic darkness. Pulling him closer Kai felt his own cock throbbing, beginning to drip even as he sucked and nuzzled, breathing in the spicy scent of the Lord of the Vespertillo.

Still holding fast to one hip he slid one hand down the strong, trembling thigh, bringing it back up to caress the heavy balls. Basti whimpered, rocking his hips, fucking Kai’s mouth with short strokes even as he rolled his balls across his fingers, the short, soft fur delightfully different to the touch. Opening his eyes he let the head of the strange cock pop from his mouth, and grinned up into the wondering face.

“What?”

“You, friend Kai,” said Basti, leaning down and running the very tip of his tongue across Kai’s lips, “are amazing.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he replied with a grin, and hooked one hand behind his head to pull him down into a deep, hot kiss.

Those massively elongated fingers, Kai discovered, weren’t just of use for flight. Agile and strong they twisted and caressed, covering every inch of skin and setting his senses alight. Running them between his thighs and cradling his balls in the warm, suede-like skin of his wings had Kai begging for more, for something - anything! - but more of it, now. Allowing himself to be pushed back on the bed he willingly spread his legs to let Basti take his cock in his mouth, no more than a faint twinge of anxiety when he remembered just how sharp those teeth were.

And that tail! Constantly on the move, seeming to have a devious mind of its own. Basti had straddled Kai’s thighs, leaning forward to kiss him, rubbing their cocks together and moaning into each others mouths when something warm stroked across Kai’s backside. He jumped, flicking his eyes open; Basti just grinned, and did it again. Recognising what it was Kai relaxed, wrapping his arms around Basti’s neck and growling into his mouth when that tail tip returned, wriggling its way between the cheeks of his arse, tickling then penetrating the ring.

He was in Heaven. Wrapping his hand around both cocks, lubricated by enough precome to slide through his fist with ease he tangled his hand in Basti’s long, fine hair, silken strands slipping around his fingers and stroking his wrist. Mouths locked together, both beginning to pant they bucked their hips together, that maddeningly insistent tail fucking Kai’s arse for all it was worth. Stretching him, teasing with its warmth it wound its way into him, striking the place that had him arching and howling, grinding himself into the slight, strong body of the Vespertillo. Begging and babbling he writhed, pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but hump his cock against Basti’s, clutch his hair and howl as he came in thick, long spurts between them. He squeezed his fingers in reflex, and the bat shrieked and arched, his come feeling so hot when it slashed across Kai’s face that he yelped again in surprise. They collapsed on each other for a moment, panting, still-hard cocks trembling and shuddering between their bodies.

Urging each other with whispers and low chuckles they crawled up the bed, curling around each other and licking the come from each others chests with long, slow swipes of their tongues, one completing a pass and then the other taking his turn.

Falling into a deep kiss, blood beginning to heat once more Kai nibbled at the bat’s throat, growling as he worried the skin between his teeth. Basti laughed, letting him have his way until, with a snarl, he flipped Kai over and pinned him again, this time face down. Unable to do anything but wriggle - damn, but he was a powerful beast - he swore and yowled when that long, hot tongue dipped between the cheeks of his backside, running down to tease his balls before sliding back up to rim him slowly. Still growling, Basti released enough pressure to allow Kai to arch his chest from the bed, moaning and wailing as the torturous assault continued.

Balls aching he begged, the grinning bat only too willing to oblige.

Lifted to his knees he hung his head, groaning when he felt that long cock slip inside him, well lubricated by saliva and the copious amounts of clear, spicy, slippery precome that leaked and ran from the head of Basti’s cock.

The bat slid his wings under Kai’s chest, hooking his thumb claws over Kai’s shoulders, biting at the back of his neck as he pushed deep into him. The heat and size of him, the slickness and heavy, slow throb that struck something inside with every thrust had the human moaning, bucking back against him, hissing his desperation and begging for harder, faster. Chuckling, Basti curled his tail under their bodies, wrapping it tight around Kai’s cock, squeezing and milking it until Kai honestly thought he was going to die.

The room filled with the sounds and smells of their fucking, a sharp tang from a spilled glass of wine adding a heady, high note to the musk and sweat that perfumed the air. Surrounding them, drifting through the walls and echoing in their minds were the cries of their friends and lovers, and from all around the castle the vibrations of those affected by the eroticism of the bat’s rutting lifted them, driving them to pound against each other until their breath came harsh. Sweat flew from their bodies, hair thrown out of their eyes to flick droplets of moisture across hot skin, there to be lapped up and followed by a bite, a snarl, a gasp.

Shrieking like a banshee Kai felt another orgasm envelop him, the heat of Basti’s seed erupting deep inside him and making him curse, the pair of them driving hard until they collapsed again into a sweating, sated heap. Kai rolled over, and gathered Basti into his arms, kissing him on the forehead.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, rubbing his hips against Basti’s stomach with a sigh, “how am I still hard?”

The Vespertillo snorted, and then explained about the scents he was - unconsciously - putting out. Kai began to laugh, the sound beginning as a weak chuckle but eventually becoming a full, happy sound. Basti blushed, then curled around to prop his head on Kai’s chest.

“You are not angry?”

Smoothing his fingers through the sleek black hair, Kai shook his head, eyes sparkling with amusement. “No. But I feel you might have some explaining to do in the morning.”

Basti groaned, and buried his face in the strong, freckled chest of his lover. “Oh shit. I wonder how far this spread?”

“I guess we’ll just have to see who’s sitting down rather carefully in the morning, won’t we?”

Basti began to shake with laughter. “I am just very, very glad that we are not rooming too close to that centaur, my friend. Can you imagine...?”

Eyes widening with horror at the thought Kai couldn’t hold the expression, and collapsed into giggles once more before kissing Basti soundly.

“So. If we’re doomed to stay up all night...you feel you could go for another round?”

“Just what I like,” growled the bat, nipping at Kai’s lower lip, “someone with as voracious an appetite as I....”

~*~

Michael the archangel was feeling a little...strange.

Angels had passions just like every other sentient creature. Just because they were servants of the Divine didn’t mean that they were immune to the flesh; if Lucifer had not possessed passion he would not have fallen, would he? And nothing was perfect, save God, so the angel took a walk in the crisp spring air and hoped to clear his head with a fresh appreciation of his Master’s creation.

Fearing nothing that walked this benighted place he had taken himself outside the castle, walking beside the great wall and pausing to admire the sweep of the mighty Rhine far below, sparkling in the light of the moon. Taking a deep breath he opened his wings, allowing the strange feeling to flow through him and - so he hoped - out into the cool night air and away. Far away, where it wouldn’t bother him with the demands of this weak flesh he was obliged to clothe himself in whenever he visited this dreadful plane.

A steady, measured sound of hoofbeats caught his attention, and he turned to see the centaur emerge from a patch of woodland that butted up to the castle walls.

“Hephaestus. Can you not sleep?”

The stallion made a noise deep in his chest, something between a growl and a whinny; alarmed, Michael took a step back, then another, until his wings bumped against the rough stone of the outer wall. The stallion was advancing on him, breathing heavily, his dapple grey coat gleaming in the moonlight and his human chest - broad as it already was - appearing as wide and solid as the wall against which he was now trapped.

This was ridiculous. All he had to do was draw his sword and drive this...this....

Michael realised that he was sweating.

Angels, he thought, don’t sweat.

“I was looking for a mare,” rumbled the centaur, his eyes glittering in the reflected light of the moon, hot and mad with dreadful desire, “but you’ll do. A normal human would be injured or killed, but you,” and those huge hands grasped his shoulders, spinning him around and pressing him to the wall, “should be able to take me. After all, you have some measure of control over the shape and form of your flesh, do you not?”

Michael spread his wings and beat them in panic, losing a few small, silvery feathers in the process. The hands were stripping him of his armour, flicking the buckles apart as though they were made of nothing, tearing the plates from him and tossing them over his huge shoulders to bounce away down the slope. The angel struggled, trying to twist out of the powerful grasp; he was a creature of the Divine! This could not be happening!

The fog that had been creeping through his mind and body swept back, clouding his judgement and allowing him to be bent over, the huge equine forelegs gripping his waist. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back under the body of the beast that grunted and probed at his--

The archangel Michael released a sound half scream, half groan when the enormous cock found his virgin arse, forcing itself in and sliding home with several huge thrusts from the centaurs hindquarters. Hephaestus bellowed, shifting the grip of his front legs until they draped over the angel’s wings, allowing them to beat frantically - and uselessly - while he fucked him.

One final heave, a last grunt and the centaur backed away, a gush of semen and blood flowing down the back of the angel’s thighs. He backed up, tail thrashing, and watched the silver and gold form fall to its knees and pant. Michael was moaning, rubbing his hand across his eyes and mumbling nonsense as he fought the sensations that flowed across and through him. Hephaestus wasn’t done; if that angel got up he was going to get it again, and thunderbolts from on high be damned.

Naked and soaked in sweat, shivering in the sudden cold of the air he turned to stare at the beast, and his expression was so lost that the centaur almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“What’s happening to me?” he begged, and the stallion grinned.

“Just the pleasures of the flesh. It’ll pass.”

Michael shook his head, then sighed. “I am going to be in so much trouble for this when I get home,” he muttered, and then to Hephaestus’ delight he staggered to his feet, braced his hands on the wall and looked over his shoulder, blue eyes shining with coy invitation.

“It will pass?”

“Oh yeah,” grinned the stallion, and mounted him again.

 _~TBC~_


	9. Follow Me

_****_

Follow Me

 

Dirk opened his eyes, and groaned.

There didn’t seem to be a single part of him that didn’t ache. He and Yoz had made love - five, six times? He’d lost count - very enthusiastically. He couldn’t recall ever being so hard, or coming until he was dry. In the end they’d fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, and he didn’t think he’d ever been so glad to wake up without a hardon.

The way his dick felt, if it got hard again it would fall off.

To add insult to injury, by the time he staggered out to relieve himself Yoz was sat at the table eating breakfast and looking perfectly fresh, papers spread before her.

“Morning Dirk,” she said with a grin. “Sleep well?”

He flipped her the finger and hobbled to the bathroom, ignoring the rustling snickers from above him. Bats. Something else he was none too fond of right now, either.

~*~

Kai snorted, turned over and pulled the pillow over his face.

Holy _shit_ but his ass hurt.

Come to think of it, so did everything else.

Feeling his face beginning to crease in a sly grin - damn, but every twinge was so worth it - he slid a hand over to the other side of the bed, seeking the warmth of the creature he’d spent a very athletic night with.

The bed was cold, empty. But he could still hear a faint, high snoring; what the...?

He rolled over, not without a certain amount of effort, and cracked his eyes open.

Oh.

So _that’s_ where the snoring was coming from.

Still, he supposed it made sense. With those wings it wouldn’t be comfortable for Basti to sleep lying down, would it? So it was only logical that at some point, after Kai had passed out from sheer physical and mental exhaustion, the bat would have assumed his usual sleeping position.

Hanging upside down from the rafters, wings wrapped around himself, tail twined firmly around his ankles.

Glittering black eyes cracked open, and Basti flashed him a toothy smile before opening his wings and stretching, extending the long, delicate fingers to their full extent before shaking himself, then letting go of the rafter and flapping once to slow his descent before landing across Kai with a thud. It was a good job, Kai thought, that he’d caught his weight on knees and ankles or his ribs would probably have given way.

The bat dropped a quick, loud kiss on Kai’s lips.

“Good morning.”

Kai looped his arms around the back of Basti’s neck and gave him a much more thorough kiss, tasting the faint echoes of himself on the bat’s tongue, a meld of each of them that made his cock - sore as it was - twitch, struggling to jump to life. He groaned, managing to answer between gritted teeth.

“Gnnnnargh...Morning.”

Basti used one thumb hook to start pulling the quilt down Kai’s body, nibbling at his throat then down onto his chest.

“We shouldn’t really,” he mumbled into Kai’s skin, swiping a lingering, loving lick over his stomach. He peeked up at Kai through long, black eyelashes, and he had to laugh.

“Give me a minute here...gotta make some room.”

Basti scuttled back up the bed, dropped another quick kiss on Kai’s lips and winked at him. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, and sprang straight up from the bed, fluttering to the ceiling to resume his upside down position. Kai stared at him for a second, eyes widening when he saw the bat flex his body and begin to nibble at his stomach, managing to give the tip of his own cock another of those quick, swiping licks that had made him scream so loud last night.

“What?” asked Basti with an impish grin, and Kai snorted.

“Pervert,” he said, then dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom with the low, wicked chuckling following along behind him.

~*~

“Morning,” he said to the others, padding naked and still half-hard through the lounge toward the bathroom. He stopped, puzzled; Yoz was eyeing him, eyebrow raised, Dirk had his head on the table, cursing under his breath, and Henjo was leaning back against Polaris, who had her wings wrapped around him and seemed to be trying to smother an attack of the giggles. The pair of bats above him were rustling and shifting with amusement, too.

“You two,” sighed the Magus, levelling her cigarette at him, “are fucking insatiable. Knock it off.”

He looked at her for a moment, still clueless, then a portion of the conversation from the night before came back to him, and he felt heat rise to his face. Something about the effect that horny male bats had on every other creature within range--

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry...?”

“So you fucking should be,” grumbled Dirk, voice muffled from where he still had his face planted on the table. Polaris gave an explosive snort, then managed to school her face to a more serious expression even as she stroked one thumb hook through Henjo’s hair. He slunk away to the bathroom, passed on his way by Daniel, damp cloth clutched to his groin; he shot his friend a savage glare, and the last thing Kai heard before he locked himself in the bathroom was a plaintive request for ice.

~*~

By the time he emerged - towel now wrapped firmly around his waist - the tension appeared to have eased somewhat, although Dirk and Henjo were still looking far from happy. Yoz, on the other hand, winked at him; no comment was passed until he reached the door of his room, at which point a bread roll bounced from the door frame and he was sternly reminded that as they had work to do he’d better be doing nothing more than getting dressed. Basti was sitting cross-legged on the bed when he came in - having thrown the roll back at the table, not bothering to see where it landed - a complicated fold of wing and arm and leg befuddling the eye. He grinned, a little sheepishly.

“You have your orders?”

“So do you,” snorted Kai. “I think if we finished what we started we might be in trouble.”

“Might?”

They laughed, and it was easy. Kai was surprised at just how easy; here he was, in a room in a castle with a man who wasn’t human and--

Hanne was dead.

The thought hit him hard, punching him in the gut and taking his breath away with its suddenness. He turned away and took a couple of paces toward the window, his throat snapping closed, barely even feeling the hook that touched his shoulder or hearing the voice that spoke to him, gentle, concerned. He just sat down on the floor with a thump, the last couple of days spinning through his mind in a whirl of xenophobia and fear and horror. Voices whirled around his head, familiar voices, voices he’d come to trust and love. Dirk, Henjo... Yoz. Basti too, having called them, shades of concern in that high pitched chatter, long arms coming around his shoulders to envelop him in soft folds of warm suede.

“Breathe, Kai,” said Yoz, and he hawked a sob to the back of his throat, keeping his eyes screwed shut while he tried to stop his head spinning.

The body pressed to his back was warmer than any person - any human person, that was. But as he leaned his head back to rest it on the strong shoulder he found comfort in it; if he just sat very still and let this warmth wrap itself around him then maybe all the bad stuff would go away. Maybe the mad whirl that his life had become would slow down just enough for him to get a grip--

“Kai,” said Dirk, and he cracked his eyes open, just a shade.

Worried grey eyes stared back at him, a little creased at the corners now. Scrappy little lines of a goatee, and the sides of the head shaved to hide the emerging grey; they’d been through so much, he and Dirk. Walked a long road and all that stuff. From youth and inexperience through pain and time to a certain cynical equilibrium, their relationship very different from the one that they’d begun so long ago but just as satisfying, for all that.

He fumbled a hand out from beneath the warmth of the enfolding wing, and Dirk gripped it so tight that he felt he’d never let go; the other he closed over the linked thumb claws across his chest, giving them a squeeze of thanks.

“Jesus,” said another voice, and Henjo’s hands fumbled to cover his and Dirk’s where they linked. Henjo, sweet Henjo, so reliable and so talented. Hot tears boiled under his eyelids, scorching down his cheeks as he tried to think of something to say, something to tell these men how he felt about them. No words would come, just the racking, hiccuping sobs that tore his chest apart from the inside.

Yoz stroked his face, her voice a low murmur. Coolness spread from her touch, a steady roll of peace that found its way to the hot, shuddering grief in his heart and stilled it, wrapping it in her calm presence and helping him put it back in its box - at least for a little while.

He took a deep breath, and let Basti help him sit up a little straighter. He sniffed, wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist; Yoz sat back on her heels with a nod, and let the four men sort themselves out, gratitude and worry flowing into the sort of bonding moment that would help keep that soul-crushing horror in its box for just a little longer. None of them had been given any time to grieve, to catch up with themselves; frankly, she was impressed that there’d been so few meltdown moments.

“I think,” she said, “that breakfast would be a good idea. Basti, are you taking the girls out to hunt?”

He paused, eyed the Magus. She met his gaze, cool and steady, and the Lord of the Vespertillo looked away first. He helped Kai to his feet, patted him on the shoulder when he turned to dress, then bowed to Yoz and stalked from the room.

The three men looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged.

“Come on,” she told them, “we’ve got to get moving. Chop chop.”

~*~

Dan was talking to Basti - perched on the windowsill - by the time Kai had managed to stop his fingers from shaking enough to get dressed and join the others. Henjo had his arms looped around Polaris’ neck, trying to persuade her to come back to his room again tonight, and Dirk, Yoz and Eero were deep in the documents she’d been given at yesterday’s meeting. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries filled the suite, and for a moment everything felt fine again; then Basti’s wide, compassionate eyes met his, and he had to sit down rather quickly before he began to shake.

Dirk poured him a coffee, nudging the mug across the table to him. Basti sighed, made as if to hop down and join Kai on his side of the table but was stopped by a quick, piercing glance from the Magus. Shaking his head he bowed, bid them a good morning, and dived out of the open window. Apodis and Chara followed him, dropping from the ceiling and sending themselves through the narrow space of the open window with a skillful flip of their wings and a twist of their agile bodies. Polaris went up on tiptoes, dropped a quick kiss on Henjo’s lips and said she would see what could be done, then she too hopped up to the ledge and dived out, following her brethren into the bright, clear morning. Yoz grumbled, and went to shut the window muttering under her breath and yelling the last couple of words after the departing shapes of the bats, slamming the window shut with a thump.

“Never mind shutting the fucking thing behind you, no, leave a bloody draught, this is why we use FUCKING DOORS!”

Kai stared at her.

“What?”

He blinked, folded his hands on the table in front of him and shook his head. “What’s your problem? You were quite happy for us last night.”

“Yeah, well. Last night I hadn’t read this stuff, had I?”

“You’d read part of it.”

“Not all of it. And I hadn’t got to the good points and I am not arguing with you. Eat some breakfast and stiffen up the fucking sinews or we’ll be late.”

Kai opened his mouth to reply, but caught Henjo giving a swift, small shake of his head and shut it with a snap. Shoving his chair back with a loud scrape against the planks of the floor he stormed over to the sideboard where the breakfast things had been set out, selecting a plateful and promptly dropping it when another voice - an unfamiliar one - spoke up with some amusement behind him.

“It can be perceived by this individual that the Balanced One has lost none of her enormous - nay, titanic - skills in dealing with difficult mortals of the human persuasion.”

Silence spread through the room as the five men stared at the newcomer. Unremarkable in height and clothing - jeans, shirt, nothing special - he leaned against the wall by the window with his arms folded against his chest. A regular face, mousy hair, there was only one thing that made him stand out, sufficiently to have Dan cursing under his breath and Eero rearing back with a disgusted curl of his lip.

His eyes were the size of tennis balls, protruding and wet, glistening as they rolled from one individual to another. Scarlet and gold, the irises curiously pale, they gleamed with the same iridescence one saw in the eye of a toad, if one were to look that closely. Staring in shock - how the Hell had the guy got in without anybody noticing? - Kai’s attention was drawn back to their Magus when she let her head drop to the table with a loud thump.

“Not to mention,” came another voice, Kai spinning to spot another of the huge-eyed individuals approaching from the outside door, “that as is ever the way when the turning of the Universe drifts our paths to cross, the Balanced One finds her heart filled with coruscating joy to encounter our species once more.”

Yoz was still banging her head on the table. “No,” she said, punctuating the spaces between her words with thumps, “no. Please. Not you lot as well. Like my life isn’t difficult enough.”

Seeing that, as yet, the newcomers had presented no threat Kai gathered his plate up again, and returned to his seat.

“So who are you guys, then?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee and keeping his eyes fixed on the one who’d spoken first. Yoz lifted her face, and glared at it.

“These bastards,” she snarled, her expression alive with dislike, “are DreamWeavers. And a bigger bunch of interfering, meddling, supercilious bastards you won’t find anywhere in the Multiverse, I swear.”

“Although what the Balanced One has neglected to mention in her bad tempered tirade,” replied the older, second creature, “is that in the possibly vain effort to save her soul - or at least keep it from the clutch of the worst of the demons that reside in the plane known, to most of your species, as Hell - the Balanced One has allowed the destiny of the aforementioned soul to become inextricably entwined with our noble purpose.”

“What?”

“Bastards got me on a leash,” she snapped, and flung herself back in her chair to light a cigarette.

“I’m assuming,” said Dirk, staring at the newcomers with some trepidation, “that at some point you’re going to explain to us who and what these guys are?”

Yoz, still groaning and grumbling under her breath, gave the fastest rundown she could think of on who - what - the Weavers were. Guardians and watchers over the planes of Dreaming, their enormous eyes recording the world around them, only allowing them to physically see what has already passed; seeing the past, hearing the present and feeling the future they walked between the worlds, compiling their books of prophecy and guiding the Universe to her destiny. As they perceived it, the Magus added sourly.

“Each creature nurtured by our Mother Universe and our Father Destiny perceives the direction they must take through the winding lanes of time differently. Only a very small number are able to lay the twining threads side by side, evaluate their Rightness in the Light and cut those that may, ultimately, lead to the Dark.”

The five men stared at the Weaver who had spoken, and Yoz sighed.

“And in case you’re wondering, they all speak like this. All the fucking time. Never get stuck in a lift with one. Come on boys - time to go.”

~*~

Henjo, Dan and Eero remained in the suite, discovering that as long as they were in physical contact with Henjo and their pendants then they could share his thoughts with the castle. Yoz grinned, turning to comment to the nearest Weaver and swearing sulfurously when she discovered that they’d gone already.

“Now you know,” said Dirk with a sly grin, “how annoying we find it.”

Back in their leathers - Yoz foregoing the finery of the night before for a simple sleeveless shirt and leather jacket - the three of them made their way back to the hall. It was thronged once more, many still clutching their sheaves of paper and muttering; the atmosphere was thick with anticipation, and there were many sideways glances at Kai as the three wriggled through the crowd to try and get closer to the door.

“Looks like Basti had quite an effect on a few people,” said Yoz with a grin. Kai blushed.

“Yolanda!” hailed a voice, and the crowd parted to allow the form of the huge centaur through, grinning and lifting his white-haired feet in an extravagant trot. She waved him over, and he greeted her with an exuberant hug.

“Whoah there!” she laughed. “Good God, mate, you’re cheerful this morning. Haven’t you read this stuff?”

She waved her own papers at him, and he flipped his hand and tail in dismissal. “Yes, yes. After your friend there had gifted me with a quite splendid evening.”

He leered at Kai, who laughed back. “The pheromones?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Quite so! And you’ll never guess,” said the centaur with quite the most evil grin Kai had ever seen on anybody, “who was also affected. And who I found taking a little walk outside the walls last night....”

He beckoned them all to follow him, and - alight with curiosity - they accompanied him to the shady side of the hall, and followed the line of his pointing finger.

“You are _shitting_ me,” said Kai.

“Nope,” grinned the centaur with a snicker. “Morning Michael!” he bellowed cheerfully, and the archangel gave him a long, steady look before turning away with a flip of his wings. “I did,” added the centaur in an undertone that probably reached the edges of the hall, “give him a blowjob afterwards to say thanks. He seemed to enjoy it.”

They noticed the angel was moving rather carefully, and Yoz was so overcome with laughter that she ended up leaning on Hephaestus’ shoulder, wiping tears from her eyes. He nudged her with his elbow, passing her a handful of silvery feathers.

“Here. I know you can use them. A gesture of thanks, perhaps, for your bringing your charming acolytes to the meeting and spicing up the event so.”

She took the feathers and stuck them inside her jacket before patting the centaur’s shoulder and assuming a more serious expression. “Thanks - they’re always handy. But seriously, mate, you want to watch that one. Angels can be savage when they feel wronged - you watch your tail for a bit, OK?”

He flexed his arms and took a deep breath, expanding his chest and arching his tail, displaying his muscular body to its finest advantage before subsiding with a chuckle.

“Fear not, Magus Yolanda. I am quite capable of looking after myself!”

“I’m sure you are. Still--” the bell began to ring, its heavy, rolling tones cutting through the chatter, calling them to the conference proper. A swirl of wings overhead made them duck, and Basti called a greeting as he swept toward the door. “Time for us to go. We’ll follow you, OK? Get us through this mob that much quicker.”

Hephaestus nodded, and offered her his arm. She took it with a laugh, and the centaur and the Magus led the way back into the place where so many revelations had been made, the night before.

~*~

All seated, Alpha rose and began to speak.

“You’ve read the documents, you know what has been happening. By what means we have no idea, but the Dark has been gathering an army of soulless, mindless soldiers; the bodies that lie in wait to be filled with the essence of the darkness will march against us, never doubt that. And so, as such a flood could conceivably sweep us away--”

“He’s as bad as the Weavers,” muttered Yoz in Dirk’s ear, and he smothered a smile.

“--we must attack first.”

Murmuring rose along the table, each participant mulling the speech over in their minds, waiting for Alpha’s next words.

“Each of our peoples, races or professions need to pick a representative. These individuals will confer to formulate a plan of action, then will be responsible for passing that information back to--”

Yoz swore, and before Dirk could stop her had jumped onto the table, using it as an impromptu stage to harangue the others.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” she snapped, “you’re going to need one person to lead this little expedition. You can’t take an army down there and lead it by committee!”

“The Illuminati don’t have one leader,” rumbled Omega, frowning at her.

“First, you don’t know that. They’re being co-ordinated by somebody or something - and besides, as all their soldiers are all part of the same awareness they don’t need someone to lead like we do. I mean, look at us. Just look!”

She walked along the table, boot heels ringing. “You’ve got everything from humans through angels and demons. Almost every type of sentient life form is going to be a part of this - and they all need to be looking to one person for giving orders.”

“One person,” snapped Michael, putting an emphasis on the word _person_ that made Yoz growl, “cannot hold all the information in their head at once.”

“That’s why you have a chain of command, birdbrain. Communications and stuff. I know you’d love everybody to be back in the year dot and bowing before you, but even before your lot showed up humans had ways of communicating in battle. But there needs to be one person to lead, to get the troops moving, one individual to motivate everyone.”

“And who do you suggest?” asked Balance, chewing the end of her pen.

“Herself, probably,” sneered the male demon. Yoz flipped it the finger.

“No. Half you bastards hate me and the others don’t trust me - and with good reason, I might add.”

“At least you admit it,” muttered Gunther, and she spun to face him.

“I have no illusions about myself. It’s the fastest way of getting killed. No, I don’t mean me and I don’t mean you either - you’d happily send the non-humans in to get slaughtered first. I know that, you know that and so,” she gestured at the many species gathered around the long table, “do they. No-one’s going to follow you, Gunther.”

Silence fell, and she paced the length of the table.

The first place she stopped was in front of the archangel, and she folded her arms and curled her lip at him. He glared back, and nobody watching was in any doubt just how these two felt about each other.

The air prickled with tension, and Dirk and Hephaestus exchanged a concerned glance. The last thing they needed was Yoz picking a fight with God’s representative.

“I suppose you think you should do it?” she asked the angel softly. Michael rose to his feet and stared at her.

“And why should I not?” he asked her, his voice equally quiet. She chuckled through teeth gritted tight, then shook her head.

“Because you are a representative of the very system that has tried to kill so many of us in this room. Look at them, Michael,” she said, turning and gesturing to the gathering, “and tell me in all honesty that they should follow you. The Vespertillo? Your priests have been burning and slaughtering them for a thousand years. The Arcadians? They hide in the remnants of the forests, damned by your followers. The Weavers, that you don’t even acknowledge? Ha.”

She stepped in until she bent from the waist, her nose level with that of the angel. “Me and the other Magi? The ones that would have been tied to a stake and burned alive if you lot had your way?”

She turned and stepped back, shaking her head. “No, Michael. No. Not you. Not ever. I’ll see this plane rot before I follow an angel.”

“But--”

“No!”

The two glared at each other, and the air spat with tension. Omega tapped his glass on the table, and with a snarl they turned away. Dirk let his breath out in a hiss, and the centaur patted him on the shoulder absently. They weren’t the only ones looking relieved; even the demons seemed glad that a fight had been averted - at least for the moment. She paused in front of Basti, and sighed.

“Lord Basti? Aye, I’d follow you, but a lot of the humans would be uncomfortable with it. And I’m not sure that any of the non-humans could get everyone moving in the same direction anyway. At the end of the day you all have your agendas - I know,” she said, lifting a palm to forestall the protest, “we’re no better. But the machinery of the Order is needed - and it isn’t open to you. Not to the extent it needs to be to lead this madness. And as for the Weavers, well,” and she snorted wry amusement, “by the time they’d got through the sentence that meant ‘attack’ we’d all have been killed anyway. Or died of old age.”

The Weaver contingent sat still and silent, ignoring the dig even as many of the others snickered.

She walked across to the necromancer, then laughed. “You? Oh, Peter, no. You’d have us at each other’s throats in a heartbeat - and anyway, we’re going to need you and your creepy friends to reanimate any of us that fall.”

“That’s true of us all,” snapped the necromancer with a scowl. “All of us have our jobs, except for Alpha, Omega and Balance. So all your showboating has been for _nothing_ , Magus. We go with the plan.”

“An army lead by committee?” she shook her head, then made her way back to her seat and, to Kai’s astonishment, dropped into it with a sigh. She picked up her cigarettes, lit one, and sat back against the carved back of her chair. “You’re sure, then?”

Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged.

“Then we’re all dead. All of us.”

Silence draped itself across the room as all present considered her words. None could, in all honesty, disagree; abrasive she could be, but in this case she was right. Without a leader, without someone to motivate and stand before them all they were doomed. A hero or a martyr, it made no difference; it had to be someone with the fire and the determination--

Kai rose to his feet, every instinct screaming at him to sit down again.

“Will you follow me?” he said, and the room exploded.

~*~

Yoz sat back and drew on her cigarette, listening to the babble that rose around her. Voices raised, wings flapped, arms waved. It seemed that although nobody could agree on who they did want to lead, they were sure that they didn’t want Kai. She began a countdown in her head, waiting for the next explosion that--

Kai, whose face had been growing redder by the moment as he listened to the protests, finally lost his temper. He scrambled onto the table, and Dirk missed grabbing him by the tiniest margin; his fingers brushed the back of his jacket and then Kai was gone. He sat back down with a curse, recognising that there was absolutely no stopping him now.

Dirk glared at the Magus, who winked.

“You are all so full of shit!” yelled Kai, stamping up and down the table. Since everyone was facing inwards yelling at each other, he’d decided he might as well use the long oval as a stage - after all, several others had done so, and the once-immaculate surface bore plenty of scars from hooves, claws and Yoz’ boots. At least he was unlikely to damage it any further.

A whispered suggestion in the back of his mind was taken, and he dropped every shred of shielding he’d built up. Several individuals reared back from him, startled at the sudden glare that broke over them; he knew that although to the ordinary vision of all present he hadn’t changed, anyone with any scrap of talent could also see his shine, the furnace that drove him and sustained him. The furnace that was now scorching him with fury, exploding outwards with all the power of a nuclear detonation.

“You would sit here and fight and squabble when people are _dying!_ Not just humans, but all people! The planet is dying! Everything is going to be destroyed and you all sit here and _talk about politics!_ ”

He ran to the end of the table, skidding to a halt in front of the three leaders of the order. “You three! You talk about numbers and power like it was dry and dead. Well it’s not! It’s people and it’s blood and it’s suffering and you’ve forgotten that - you want to know why I’m here? Do you?”

He spun on his heel and now he was screaming, storming along the rows of shocked faces and driving the facts into their faces with every shred of force he could summon up. Everything he was, everything he’d felt since this insane journey had begun he poured into his words, flinging it in the faces of the startled throng.

“I was just living my fucking life when bang, your fucking world decided to try and destroy me. I had a girlfriend. Her name was Hanne, and because of this war she was killed. Do you understand me? She was eighteen - she had her whole life ahead of her only it turned out she didn’t because of this stupid neverending war!”

His eyes had filled with tears, and he swiped them away with his sleeve, storming up to the angel. “Do you get that? Do you understand love? She meant the fucking world to me and _she was murdered!_ ”

Yoz observed him in silence, puffing on her cigarette. Kai spun on his heel and began to stalk along the other side of the table, shouting through a throat pulled tight with grief, throwing the force of his emotion at the watchers.

“You all talk about ‘agendas’ and who owes who a favour and who can and can’t be trusted and it’s all a crock of _shit_. Every single one of you, all looking to see what you can gain from this! Well,” he snarled, reaching the end of the table and turning his back on the three, “you want to know what I’ve got to gain from this? Nothing. Nothing at all! I’ve already lost - my girlfriend is dead, my career is fucked. If I survive this fucking war I’m going to spend the rest of my life running from the fucking dark and maybe - maybe! - trying to clear my name. Or I’ll be sitting in a prison cell just waiting for the bad guys to come and get me!”

He opened his arms to them. “I have nothing to gain from this. _Nothing_. But what I am you can have. Will you follow me?”

To Kai’s surprise the first one on his feet was the necromancer.

“I will follow you,” he said. Yoz was so startled she dropped ash down her front, and yelped a curse as she brushed the hot substance from her skin.

“And I,” said Basti, closely followed by Hephaestus. More voices joined theirs, ripples of agreement rolling up and down the long table until all were on their feet, all except the three leaders of the Order. They remained seated until Kai turned to them, staring at them in bold challenge, folding his arms and lifting his chin in defiance.

The three stared at him in silence, letting the air in the great hall thicken until it seemed that none could breathe. Only Kai, trembling with the force of his emotion, only he could be heard in the silence, the sound of his breathing harsh against the expectant background.

“Will you lead us?” asked Balance, and the hall erupted once more.

~*~

The dark-liveried servants moved Kai’s chair to the head of the table, placing him between Alpha and Balance. Kai hadn’t had chance to speak to Yoz, or even catch her eye; he had no idea if she approved of his sudden action - although he suspected that had she not, he would know about it. He couldn’t say where the decision had come from; all he knew was that it had seemed so right, so obvious, that he could no more have sat silent than grown wings and flown away.

Although, listening to Omega roaring the crowd to silence and realising that every eye was now trained on him he rather wished he could.

The eldest of the Weaver contingent rose, flicking the thin, clear membranes across his huge eyes as he stared at the crowd. Bowing briefly to Kai, he began to address them.

“Now that the tangled and difficult question of a leader for the troublesome times ahead is settled, it will be necessary to formulate the details of a plan of attack.”

“Logistically, this is going to be tricky,” agreed Yoz, sitting forward and meeting the mournful gaze of the Weaver. “I don’t think there’s anywhere big enough for everyone to stay together and avoid notice - by either the outside world or the Illuminati.”

“The Balanced One is, as ever in such matters, correct. However, we have ourselves formulated a plan that makes physically gathering the troops unnecessary.”

“Neat trick if you can do it,” she replied, grinning around her cigarette. Dirk elbowed her.

“We have created a refuge, a place of safety, within a pocket universe. Each leader will be given an access point to enter this place beyond the reaches of current space and time; meetings will be held there and that is where the planning will take place. It is secure from all interruptions and intrusions of the Dark, and when the time comes can be used to transport each contingent to the end of the wormhole that will be used to ship the army of Light to the enemy stronghold amidst the eternal snow.”

Hephaestus nodded gravely. “I had been wondering how I would get my people to the departure point. Alas, it is not as easy as it was to travel across the world.”

Mumbled agreement, which the Weaver allowed to growl to a halt before he spoke up again. “If any wonder as to the security or safety of the enterprise, then let it be known that the Universe being used has been stable for many years; extending the current spell was well within the limits of my people.”

“Current spell?” asked someone, and Yoz glared at the Weaver.

“You bastards,” she hissed, baring her teeth. “So that’s what you wanted it for. You could have just asked.”

“And would you have agreed?”

She growled in reply.

The Weaver turned its hand over, and nestling in its palm was the dark marble that held Yoz’ room. Kai murmured under his breath; no wonder Yoz had been so upset when he mentioned it back at the safe house. The Weavers had taken it from her. And, apparently, lied about why.

The Weaver placed the marble on the table, rolling it across to the angry Magus. She snatched it up, cradled it in her hands and stared at it before slipping it back into the pocket of her jacket.

“If it’s been damaged or hurt--”

“Rest assured, Magus, the living entity that is represented by that object was in no way mutilated or blighted by the process. In point of fact it was...most helpful.”

She subsided, still cursing under her breath and snapping her teeth at the cool figure of the Weaver like an angry dog. It ignored her, and continued to address the gathering at large.

“We shall provide the access points and codes to the Shining One before we depart on the next phase of our journey,” it said, bowing once more to Kai. He shot upright in his chair, eyes widening, when he realised that the Weavers already had a name for him. The creature gave a small, wry smile at his expression. “Indeed, your form and thoughts have been known to us for many centuries. Your arrival and pain have been written in the stars since the long ago days of this world’s birth; the threads of your existence wove toward this point with the inevitability of--”

“Righto then, that’s enough,” interrupted the Magus, lifting her voice to drown that of the Weaver. “I thought you were being a bit bloody concise earlier. Been practicing, have we?”

The Weavers glared at her, and she mock-bowed to them.

“Each representative,” continued the Weaver, shooting her a dirty look, “of a people or a leader of a guild will be given a code to the access point. This incantation can be passed to as many lieutenants as it is felt might be necessary to aid in your planning; be aware, however, that it cannot be taken from your minds while you live. Any attempt to do so will result in the instant demise of the carrier, and an alert in the mind of the Shining One.”

Kai blinked, and looked up as the Weaver approached him. It placed long fingers on his forehead, and flicked the clear nictitating membranes across its huge eyes. “This will bring you no physical pain,” it said, and Kai’s face relaxed. He was getting rather fed up with magic that stung when it was used. “The keys must be distributed through one mind, linked to one soul - and as the leader of this enterprise...you will be the one.”

It tilted its head, and for a moment the air around its fingertips glowed; Kai shifted in his seat, closed his eyes, but before he could flinch the Weaver had withdrawn its hand. It turned back to its companions, one of whom placed a box before him; on opening it, he saw that it was filled to the brim with objects that resembled Yoz’ room. Marbles of swirling, coruscating colour rubbed and shuffled, their surfaces swirling with bright, shifting silvery shades.

Alpha shook his head, and rose.

“Each of you will approach and swear your allegiance to the Rosicrucian Order and our cause. Then you will depart to gather your forces; as ever, we shall be contacting you or your representatives to begin the planning. Kai?”

Swallowing hard, Kai followed the three as they rose, stepping back from the table and ranging themselves behind him. Each person that had been at the table came to him, some kneeling, others bowing. All swore themselves and their people to the service of the Order and his command, receiving one of the coruscating globes and a glowing touch to the forehead that transferred the key. He had no idea how he’d learned the trick of transfer; the only guess he could make, as his mind whirled with confusion, was that the Weaver had given him the knowledge at the same time he’d been given the key.

He wondered how much of this they’d known about beforehand, and began to understand why Yoz disliked them so much.

In the end he faced Yoz, Dirk at her shoulder. The Weavers and the three leaders had withdrawn somewhat, giving them some room; Basti had kissed Kai gently on the forehead before dropping to one knee in front of him, swearing his allegiance then leaping away in a flurry of wings before the tears gathering in his eyes could fall. Hephaestus had done the same, but added a great bear hug afterwards that had lifted him from his feet. Michael the archangel had bowed, stiffly, and the demon had given the back of his hand a long, lewd lick after kissing his knuckle. He’d had to fight the urge to wipe his hand on his jeans after that.

He attempted to guess what Yoz would say, and tried to ignore the sadness in Dirk’s eyes. A door opening and closing at the back of the hall drew his eye, and he sighed to see more familiar faces approaching. Moira and Jason, the librarian wearing a mask of concern on the friendly face, the alchemist with her appearing worn to the bone, hand in hand as they drew near. Behind them, Henjo, Dan and Eero, hurrying across the acres of polished wooden flooring, white faced and worried after witnessing the chaos through the awareness of the castle. Yoz drew his attention back with a chuckle as she lifted the sigil he still wore around his neck.

“Well now. Who would have known that this thing would serve two purposes--”

“For all your protestation,” interrupted the senior Weaver, appearing silently at Kai’s shoulder and making him flinch, “the Universe always conspires to tangle your threads ever tighter with our own, does she not?”

“Oh, don’t be so damn smug.”

Kai shook his head. “You knew?” he asked the Magus, feeling a little more comfortable surrounded by a gathering of people he couldn’t help but trust.

Yoz looked him in the eye, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “I’d guessed some of it. The Weavers had been whispering about a Shining One for a while, and with what Beorn said and your inherent sense of fairness, well,” and she shrugged. “It didn’t entirely surprise me, put it that way.”

He touched the pendant around his neck. “Do I have to return this?” he asked, blinking in confusion when Yoz barked a laugh, the Weaver at his shoulder flinching, eyes going even wider at the thought. She grinned at it, and her expression was savage.

“You see? He would release me without a thought. And what would that do to your machinations, eh? He’d let me off this leash you’ve tied around my neck and never blame me for taking off. You want to be careful, mate - he won’t be controlled. Not by me, and not by you.”

The Weaver made an unhappy little noise in its throat, and hurried away to join its brethren and the three leaders of the order where they waited a little distance away. The Magus snorted, and patted Kai on the shoulder.

“You remember I told you that this pendant tied you to me, brought you under my protection?”

He nodded, and she lifted it from where it lay on his chest, turning it to catch the light so that it sparkled. “Well, it works the other way round, too. As long as you wear it I’m tied to you - command me, and I’m your creature to do as you will. With what the Weavers and the Order have given you, I could no more disobey a command than walk through stone. And don’t take it lightly; I’ve still got my will, but my purpose is now yours.”

“Shit,” he said, and she snorted.

“Yeah. And if anybody laughs at me I’m going to throttle them, OK?”

And she went to one knee, bowing her head to Kai and swearing allegiance to him and his cause in a clear, ringing voice. Getting to her feet again she stepped in and kissed him, lightly, on the lips; he passed her the last of the silvery orbs, and brushed his fingers across her forehead to give her the key. She winked at him and stepped back; they stood in a circle, unsure of what to say, until Balance joined them with a smile.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked Kai, and his eyes went wide with shock. He hadn’t thought that they would have to part.

“Wait,” he said, and locked gazes with Henjo. “I’ll need help,” he said. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” he replied, and went to stand at Kai’s shoulder. He nodded, but his face fell, if that were possible, even further as he looked at the rest. Yoz cleared her throat.

“If I may make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Unless I miss my guess, Moi and Jason will be heading with you to the headquarters, right?”

Their friends nodded. “Then I think Daniel and Eero should accompany them. You’ll need people you can trust to relay orders and gather information, won’t you? I daresay those three,” and she flipped a hand at the grey-suited leaders of the Order, “will keep you on the move. And having a few friendly voices at base will be a great relief, right?”

Kai smiled, and Eero’s shoulders sagged with relief. He’d been so very afraid that he would end up on the front line of a war he didn’t understand, and had already been so terribly hurt by. Yoz tipped her head at Dirk.

“He’s going to need someone out there on the road, making sure stuff is going to plan, gathering information and shit like that. You fancy keeping me company?”

He thought about this for a moment, then nodded. She smiled at him, then turned back to Kai. “So this is it, then. We’ll get our shit together and--”

“Will we see you again?” he asked, and she laughed.

“Kai,” she said, her grin as bright and vicious as a forest fire, “by the time the damn attack takes place you’ll be sick of the sight of me. Now off you go and save us all, OK?”

And without another word she took Dirk’s hand, and dragged him from the hall.

Neither one of them looked back, and Kai stared at the door that closed behind them for a very long moment before he turned back to the expectant group. Taking a deep breath he tilted his chin up, and tried to look as though he were the person they could all safely follow into Hell.

“Let’s get on with it,” he said, and with a bow Alpha began to explain where they would go from here.

~*~

Yoz didn’t give Dirk time to worry or fret about leaving the others behind, but chivvied him back to the suite and nagged and poked until he had a bag on his shoulder and was ready to go. He paused on the threshold, looking back into the room for a long moment; she touched his arm, and when he tilted his head to look down at her there was understanding in her gaze.

“We will be seeing them again, you know.”

He nodded, then gave in to her persistent sleeve-plucking and followed her down the stairs with a sigh.

They weren’t the only ones leaving, and had to wriggle through the press of bodies in the courtyard. Yoz cocked her head to look up, the soaring stone walls closing in a rectangle of sky in pale blue, stitched from the roofing slates by the black crosses of ravens turning and wheeling above their ancestral home. The cloisters that lined each floor were busy with individuals of all shapes and sizes, rushing to and fro with bags and boxes, bent on missions of their own. The air vibrated with urgency, and Yoz grinned to feel the tug of the road once more; it was definitely time to move on.

“Come on,” she said to her solemn companion, and they slipped away through the gates without another word.

~*~

Kai and the others barely had time to draw breath before they too were on the road again. In slightly more comfort than they had arrived, it was true; several large cars were waiting by the entrance gates, whisking them away to the Rosicrucian headquarters in some style. All the cars were driven by Weavers, and so it would be a non stop drive from the lonely castle over the Rhine to the bustling, noisy Italian city where the Order had made its headquarters for a little more than a thousand years. Curled comfortably against Henjo’s side, Kai listened wide eyed as Balance gave them edited highlights of the Order’s history, and that of the city they were travelling to.

The chirp of a phone in her breast pocket interrupted her, and she excused herself to answer it. Kai fiddled with the pendant hanging over his heart, and lifted it to study it thoughtfully.

“You’d better not be thinking of messing with that,” said Henjo, and Kai tilted his face up to eye his friend.

“She did say I could order her to--”

“Be very careful, Mr. Hansen,” said Balance with a shake of her head, snapping the phone closed. “For all that the sigil in your hand gives you a certain amount of protection from the Magus Yolanda, she is not to be trusted. She is...random chance in the game we play with our opponents.”

“It’s not a game,” snapped Kai, “not for me.”

The older woman tilted her head and bowed it in apology. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. From my perspective it can often seem like a game; move and counter move, each organisation striving to remain one step ahead of the other. Usually we remain more or less in balance, but sometimes it tilts - and that’s when an influence not under the restriction of either side is needed to get things back on track.”

“Yoz,” said Kai, and Balance agreed with a nod.

“But she’s very dangerous. The Weavers watch the whole of this plane of existence, winding together past, present, and future to predict the direction of the Universe. And Yolanda, although they try never to admit it, frightens them.”

“Why?”

Balance laughed. “She is, as I said, the ultimate wild card. Not so much in terms of raw power, but in how she operates; her path is totally random, due to the way her power functions. There are, you see, nine levels of organised magic.”

“But they said--” Kai began, frowning. Balance nodded, that small smile still lurking around her eyes.

“The other Magi call her the Tenth level, yes. Because she is not a part of their collective, and her power has very little in common with theirs - hers is wilder, and darker. You see, anyone finding their way to power is noticed, and without the assistance of the organised Orders will grind to a halt before they can gather enough strength to do too much damage. Yolanda, on the other hand....”

“I can see that,” agreed Henjo, wryly.

“She made her way around the world, jumped from Master to Master, picking up a bit here and a bit there. And something in her allowed her to combine all the disparate pieces into a coherent whole; then she lost the one she thought she couldn’t live without, and sold her soul for power.”

“So she has no soul?” asked Kai, unable to say why the thought raised the hair on the back of his neck. Balance shook her head.

“She has a soul, but on her physical death it is destined for Hell. And therein lies the problem. For if the Morningstar is denied....”

“One soul?”

Balance sighed. “Heaven is all about numbers. God cares not for individuals; Lucifer, on the other hand...well, he was ever angry, even when he was an angel. If this one soul slips through his fingers he will be furious enough to lash out. And that means he will touch this plane directly, and then Yahweh will have no choice but to do the same.”

“Armageddon,” said Henjo softly, and Balance nodded.

“Millions will die. And in the confusion the Darkness will be able to overtake us all, and in the end this Universe will be a shelled out husk, a globe of lifeless, frozen dark for the rest of eternity.”

“Over Yoz?” asked Kai, and the other woman nodded.

“That,” she said softly, “is why she is so dangerous.”

There seemed little to say to that, and the three of them travelled on in silence.

~*~

Hitching a lift to the nearest village and then stealing a car hadn’t taken Yoz and Dirk very long at all. He was still somewhat uncomfortable with the theft aspect of their activities; but then, as she explained to him, they had the Dark force of the Universe trying to kill them - so who cared about a little charge of taking without consent?

Anyway, the owner was a bastard who beat his wife.

Dirk gave in with a sigh, letting her chivvy him into the little red sports car with her wicked grin firmly in place. He waited until they hit the road, speeding north on the nearest highway before he thought to ask her where they were going.

“Well,” she said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, “I think there’s a few non-humans I might be able to get to come with us on this little jaunt. There’s a tribe or two of trolls up in Norway I know of, and some elves in Iceland. Ever been there?”

He shook his head, more in bemusement than in answer, and she laughed.

“Come on, Dirk. We can do whatever we want; the road is there before us, we can please ourselves - the world is our mollusc of choice, my friend.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed carefully, “but we’re trying to find allies to fight a war that might mean the end of the world.”

“That too. Spoilsport.”

“You are in a very good mood, Yoz.”

She grinned, still tapping a lively beat on the plush leather cover of the wheel. “It’s being on the road again. Always cheers me up. I’d be even happier if we were heading back to England for a bit - but I’ll get back there eventually. After we’ve won the war. I can just bugger off home and leave the Rosicrucians to pick up the pieces--”

“That seems a little harsh.”

“Fuck it, they’re the ones that want to save the world. Let ‘em, I say.”

Snorting at her he curled himself into the soft, rich leather upholstery, and let the weariness of the last few days overtake him. Yoz watched him doze off from the corner of her eye, and laughed. Let him rest. They’d be short of sleep soon enough.

~*~

Dirk found himself being shaken awake just as the sky began to purple with evening, the car parked outside a motel and rest stop. Yoz’ eyes glittered in the gloom, and her voice was cheerful as she poked him in the side.

“Come on sleepyhead. Time to eat and check in with the others.”

He yawned and stretched, hauling himself from the car and wandering across the parking lot behind her, mind still in neutral from his long sleep. His stomach rumbled, and he realised that he wanted nothing more than a big meal and a good solid eight hours kip; whether he would get either while travelling with the mercurial Magus was another matter entirely. Occasionally she seemed to forget that other people needed to eat, sleep and go to the bathroom.

So it was something of a surprise that she dragged him into the brightly lit cafe attached to the rest stop, ordered them both a decent meal and picked at hers while he demolished his. He shot her a sly smile.

“Not hungry?”

“Not really. Got a lot on my mind.”

She sat back and sparked up a cigarette, ignoring the large plastic no smoking sign over their heads. One of the waitresses turned to them with a frown; Dirk wasn’t at all surprised to see Yoz reply with a lazy twitch of a finger, and the uniformed woman shook her head and looked away, expression puzzled.

“That’s not nice, Yoz....”

“Fuck nice. Ah, I know what you’re going to say,” and she grinned even as she wagged a finger at him, “the romance of the open road and all that? Well, it would be worse if I was shut up in a stuffy building with all that politics buzzing around. At least out here,” and she flung herself back, gesturing grandly at the lines of headlights wending their way along the autobahn on the other side of the hedge ringing the car park, “I have space to think. Time, however....”

He folded his hands on the table in front of him and eyed her. “So. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. Everything. This thing, Dirk - it’s too big. Too complicated. Too many loose ends, frayed edges - somebody’s bound to screw up at some point and a lot of people are going to get killed.”

Shadows danced across her eyes, and he laid one hand on top of hers, a gesture of comfort, of solidarity. She looked at it as though he’d put a scorpion on the table.

“And you’re afraid it’s going to be you, right?”

She hooded her eyes, lifted a finger to her lips and smiled at him. Before he could roll his eyes at her, however, the pendant he still wore under his shirt gave a peculiar jump, a sort of twitch, and he felt a flash of heat against his skin. From the startled expression on her face, he guessed that Yoz had felt it too.

“Shit,” she muttered, and waved the waitress over to ask for the bill.

“What was that?” he asked, but she gestured him to silence as she paid for their meal using a credit card - which he presumed was as stolen as the car - then left the cafe at a fast clip. Leading him to the motel next door she used the same card to pay for a room, but paused with her hand on the lock.

“Give me a minute then knock, OK?”

“You’re going to open your room.”

“Yeah. And it might be a bit wary of you at first, so I’ll bring you in through the front door to start with. Once it knows you, that’s fine - I can open it with you in there with me. But the last time it was anywhere near you...” she shook her head and he looked away. The last time he’d been possessed by a demon, intent on killing her and the others. And anyone else who got in his way.

He shuddered at the memory, and she touched his arm.

“Hey. It’ll be OK. Just give me a minute.”

The door drifted shut, and he watched it. The blank wood stared back, giving no hint of what was happening behind it; he knew, in theory, how the spell worked, how the piece of building tied up in a pocket universe of its own had become as close to being alive as made no odds. Henjo had told him about it, as had Kai, and from the latent demonic memories lurking in the darker recesses of his mind he could catch the occasional glimpse of how such magic worked, but he had never--

One minute, and as he lifted his hand to knock the door opened, Yoz’ smiling face welcoming him in.

It was even more amazing than he’d imagined. And if the temperature dropped a little and the lights dimmed well, he could hardly blame the place.

“Now, come on,” said Yoz, and he realised that she was talking to the open air, using a cajoling tone, “take a look. He’s OK now, you see? No demon. Promise.”

The light wavered for a moment, then brightened to its previous level. She rolled her eyes at him, then plucked at his sleeve. “Come look at this. I must confess, I hate the sodding Weavers like poison most of the time but they’ve done me proud. Look....”

From what had been described to him he had been expecting one large room, vaulted ceiling and walls half panelled with warm, rich wood, flagstoned floor and mismatched furniture that appeared and vanished at will. Bookcases sectioned the space, and there was a fireplace and a desk--

That remained the same, but when she towed him around the bookcases there were just a series of stacks surrounding another open space, then two doors in the blank stone of the wall.

“They’ve been busy little bastards,” she said with a grin, opening one door and showing him another large room with a grand, canopied bed dominating the centre of the room. Pillows heaped at one end, rich quilts of satin and silk flowed down its sides and the drapes around it were heavy green velvet; her dragon lamp watched him from the nearest side, and a partner for it sat quietly on the other. A fireplace arched in the far wall, and several large chests with richly padded tops sat around the walls and at the foot of the magnificent bed.

“Nice,” he said, and was rewarded by her soft laugh.

“Wait till you see what else they gave me. It’s not a sodding room any more, it’s a bloody apartment.”

The other door led to a bathroom. And although it was short of some of the more modern accoutrements one would expect to see in such a space, the enormous sunken bath with its arching, golden dragon taps quite made up for those. She wandered into the space, waving her arms and grinning and touching the walls, telling the air what a clever thing it was and she was sorry that the bug-eyed bastards had been allowed to fiddle with it. But wasn’t this great, and didn’t it feel good to be so smart?

Dirk smelt a whiff of jasmine, and shook his head at the quick rise in temperature. This was insane, but really rather sweet; the mad Magus and the building that responded to her like a happy puppy.

The pendant gave another twitch, more insistent, and the flash of heat from it bordered on pain. Yoz grabbed at her chest and swore sharply, giving the wall a final pat before turning back to him with a frown.

“Someone - and my bet would be Kai - is trying to contact us. Me, specifically. But there’s another nifty little trick they’ve built in - want to come see?”

She towed him out of the bathroom, pulling the silvery sigil from under her t shirt as she did so. It was gleaming, gentle rays of light coruscating from its surface where it lay in her palm. Holding it in one hand and clutching his in the other she walked to a blank piece of wall, and muttered something under her breath.

A fissure in the stones became apparent, light glowing around them in a rough oblong shape. The light spread, racing across the surface of the stones and spreading to hide them, clearing to reveal a heavy oak door that hadn’t been there but a minute before. He dropped her hand, stepped forward to touch it; it was as solid and real as it appeared, and if he hadn’t just seen the damn thing appear out of thin air right in front of his eyes he would have sworn it had been there for a hundred years - or more.

“Where does it go?” he asked, running long fingers around the frame in fascination.

“You know the place the Weavers were talking about? They’ve created another bubble inside this Universe, somewhere everyone can get together. And from what I can tell, this appears to be a shortcut.”

“From what you can tell,” he deadpanned at her, and she snorted at him.

“Yeah. Come on,” and she threw a cheeky look over her shoulder as she pushed the door open, revealing blank silvery grey light on the other side, no discernible features showing themselves to his curious gaze, “let’s go find out.”

Shaking his head at the foolishness of the enterprise, he followed her into the light.

~*~

Kai was pacing when they emerged through a ramshackle, corrugated iron door, shoving it closed with a squeal of rust and sand.

“Weavers,” sighed Yoz to nobody in particular, “gotta love their sense of humour.”

To all intents and purposes, the building they had just entered resembled a semi-derelict aircraft hangar in a desert. Hot sunshine gleamed through cracks and splits in the walls and roof, and yellow-beige sand had drifted against the walls. The ghosts of aviation fuel still seemed to linger in the darker corners, and long streaks of dryly stippled rust striped the flanks of the enormous building. The air was so desiccated it pinched at the throat, and although it wasn’t yet too hot Dirk got the definite feeling that the place would become an oven before too long.

“But--”

“Don’t ask,” she snorted, and waved at Kai.

“Where the _Hell_ have you two been?” he yelled, and she rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be dragged over to the concerned little group of people clustered in the centre of the floor. Dirk recognised Alpha and Balance, and Moira was with them; an unfamiliar centaur stamped his hooves and swirled his tail as he turned to regard the newcomers. Yoz frowned, extending a hand to shake with the huge stallion.

“Mabon? It’s been a while, mate.”

The stallion bowed to her, hazel eyes filled with worry. “Indeed, Magus.”

His chestnut skin beginning to gleam with sweat he turned to greet Dirk, bowing to him before turning back to Kai. The rusted door they had entered by began to screech again, and more individuals started to arrive. Some Dirk recognised, some he didn’t, but all of them got a few hurried paces into the building before slowing down and staring up at the huge expanse of heat-gilded space, jaws slack with wonder. Mabon flicked his flaxen tail and touched Moira on the shoulder, raising a blond eyebrow; she patted his hand and shook her head, murmuring about waiting for more news.

“Kai--” began Yoz, clenching her teeth on her impatience. He shrugged, sighing when Dan burst through the rickety door with a final screech of neglected hinges. The tall man hurried through the crowd, passing Moira a sheaf of papers then seeking out Kai. Placing himself at his shoulder he spared Yoz and Dirk a quick smile, then let his face fall back into the frown he’d been wearing since he came into the building.

“Friends,” said Kai, waving his arms for quiet, “we have a problem.”

“Shit,” murmured Yoz, and Dirk squeezed her hand.

“We’ve just had word from the Arcadians,” and he patted Mabon on the shoulder with a firm slap, “that Hephaestus has been taken by agents of the Dark. As far as we know he’s been shipped to the Antarctic base--”

“To be used as a power source. Shit!” snapped Yoz, biting the side of her thumb even as she scowled at Kai.

“It’s worse than that,” rumbled Mabon, “for my Lord Hephaestus had the plans for all of the Arcadian forces in his mind - and had been instrumental in planning the co-ordination of my people with yours. He cannot give them access to this - place,” and the stallion flapped his hand, sweat now streaking his chestnut flanks dark, “but if they can break him they will know the vast majority of our plans against them.”

Silence fell.

“You know what this means,” said someone from the back, and Dirk craned his neck to see who it might be. The speaker was Peter the necromancer, now outfitted in what was presumably his street wear of jeans, scruffy trainers and a tatty black t shirt. His hair hung in his eyes, the dark strands framing worried grey eyes. Yoz hissed like a kettle beside him, and her words confirmed the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah,” she growled, “we’re fucked.”

 _~TBC~_


	10. Eagle

_****_

Eagle

 

As soon as Hephaestus awoke, he knew he was in trouble.

He was laying on his chest, his human half folded over so his head was between his knees, an iron collar about his throat, a chain attached to it running through a ring on his wrists and off...somewhere.

Shuffling his forefeet he broke into a sweat. A steel bar held them apart; a solid, leather lined metal cuff firmly locked around each fetlock above his hooves, chains on the outside leading out of his line of vision, the bar between them on the inside. His hindlegs were curled beneath him, but from the feel of them pressed against his belly they had the same arrangement attached to them, too.

Helpless, he moaned as he shifted, which drew a dark chuckle from a corner of the room.

“You’re awake, then.”

He sagged his head back between his knees. Perhaps if they thought he was just stirring, was still unconscious--

A line of fire sang across his haunches, and with a roar he tried to surge to his feet. Hobbled together as they were he staggered, falling on his side, banging and hurting himself as he lashed in his panic. The fire came again, and he squealed in pain; his tormentor walked into his line of sight, armed with a long, slender whip, and she struck him again. This time the slice burned across his chest, and she continued to whip him until he’d forced himself to his feet, panting, dripping a mixture of sweat and blood from the thin scores all over his body.

She smiled, stepped back to the wall, and seized a piece of chain he could see dangling by her shoulder. With a wink, she turned and began to pull on it; he swore and tried to shift away as the slack was taken up from the chain running through the ring on his wrists, then cried out as it began to pull on the collar around his neck. Once the chain was tight, holding his head high and trapping his hands by his chin, all he could do was roll his eyes at his adversary. She walked around him - having, he guessed, tied the chain off - running fingertips along his flanks, caressing his shoulder and rump. He fought, struggling against his bonds and trying to kick, and she shook her head and clucked her tongue between her teeth.

“I see we haven’t tied you tight enough,” she said with a sigh. “I was hoping to avoid this....”

She stepped in to his head, holding a long bladed knife to his throat; he tried to barge her out of the way, knock her over, hurt her, but without so much as a flicker of emotion she slipped the tip of the dagger under the skin of his neck.

He froze, and the skin all across his body shuddered as he felt unfamiliar hands touching him, attaching a stout leather belt around his barrel - cinching it so tight it was hard to breathe - to which was attached yet more chains, angling off toward the ceiling, preventing any lateral movement at all. And even worse were the two steel bars that were attached between front and hind legs, holding all four limbs out in such a way that he couldn’t move at all.

She pulled the knife back. He felt a warm rill of blood spill down his throat, across his naked chest, and cursed her when he felt her tongue begin to lap across him, warm and eager across his skin. She licked across his belly, up over his pecs, collecting the blood where it had started to gather along his collarbone. He swore at her again as she leaned her body against him, lapping at the cut she’d made in his throat, closing her mouth over it to suck at his flesh, to pull more of his blood from him.

Finally she stepped back, spoke in a quiet murmur to another human. He snarled at her, not bothering to waste words but making it clear with posture and expression that just as soon as he found a way to escape he was going to kill her. Tear her apart with his bare hands. Of course, that would involve getting loose first....

The sharp bite of a needle in his haunch made him bellow, cursing aloud, breaking his self imposed silence to demand to know what she’d done, what she’d pumped into him, what she was going to do; she laughed, standing behind him, running her fingers across the base of his tail and down over his buttocks, between his hind legs and back up. He roared, shaking and trying to fight, to kick, anything to escape but the chains and shackles held him fast. And that hand kept stroking, stroking, touching him all across his hind end, running under his belly, along his spine, tracing the lines of muscle and the raised veins.

“What have you done?” he hissed, tilting his head back as he felt heat begin to run through his body, driven to sing through him by his thundering heart.

“I’m training you,” she said quietly, sliding her hand between his thighs once more.

The burning increased, and he cried out as he felt his cock slide from its sheath, the heat burning him to a pulsing, trembling erection.

“Why?”

Her voice was tinged with laughter as she leaned on his rump, sliding her hand down between his hind legs and rubbing his balls. “Because I can. And it amuses me to do so.”

He moaned, grinding his teeth as the caressing continued. Her hands were large, large enough to take an entire testicle in her palm, weigh it and squeeze it, stroke it and pull at it in its soft pouch. He shuddered, horror dragging the hair on the back of his neck erect. He was burning, the heat gathering wherever her touch focused it, his balls lifting under her grip; he was going to shoot his load any second--

The way she laughed when the first shot splashed across the concrete made him cringe. He couldn’t help himself; she was playing his body like an instrument, whatever she’d injected him with pulling the most intense sexual response from him imaginable. He humped his back, trying to push his cock into something - anything - to assuage the dreadful craving, the burning, the desire she was creating in him.

He could hear her moving now, stroking those wicked hands down his hind legs, back up the inside of them, back to his balls. He wanted to jump away, to fight her and the chains and the bonds until his heart burst and allowed death to take him away from this torture - but the heat in his veins, the weight in his balls, the throbbing of his cock wouldn’t let him.

From what she was doing with her hands she must be on her knees now. Under any other circumstance he would have liked to see that; on her knees before him, vulnerable. Now all he could do was shake and moan, dreading what was to come next and yet anticipating it with every fibre of his being. The first stroke of those wicked fingers along his cock had him shrieking, her hands exploring every inch of him from the flared, flushed pink head all the way back along the arching shaft, rubbing it where it vanished between his aching balls.

And there was somebody else in the room.

He broke down when they touched him, smoothing their hands over his dock, wrapping around his tail and pulling gently. These hands were male, and the scent of them - although mostly hidden by his own stench of desire and sweat and semen - was definitely masculine, excited, human. Fingers began to run around the pucker of his arse and he shook harder, begging now in a whisper, promising anything - his soul, his being, anything - if they would just stop.

Wetness, heat around the head of his cock and he came again, splashing his seed across her face and begging for more. She laughed, rubbed her face on his belly, sucked his head in again and rubbed his own come, warm and slick, along his shaft until he thought he would die. And when the stimulation stopped, leaving just the excited male wrapping his tail in something, a bandage, perhaps, he sagged in his bonds and closed his eyes, praying more fervently than he’d ever prayed before that it would soon be over.

She pressed herself into his human chest, naked now, and nuzzled her face against his throat. “Not enjoying this?”

He could smell his semen on her, and felt gorge rise in his throat. She was sick, twisted, and if wishes had substance she would be lying in a million bloody pieces across the floor.

“Then let’s up the stakes a little,” she said, and reached behind her to take - something - from the man. Hephaestus groaned, tried to shift away but was stuck fast. He had to let her tie the piece of cloth around his head, blindfolding him, sharpening the rest of his senses painfully.

That was when the man slid something blunt into his arse, and he just dropped his head back and screamed until he ran out of breath.

“Such a fuss,” she clucked, then moved from his head. Those hands were active again, running all over his human torso, pinching and scratching, twisting his nipples, smoothing down to his equine half and caressing him, rubbing along his back, down his belly. Something cold squirted under his tail, and whatever he was being violated with was moving easier, sliding deep enough to touch his prostate and make him weep with the burst of brightness that exploded behind his blindfold.

Hands on his balls, a mouth, a tongue to lick them. Wetness on his shaft and then, oh glory, heat closing around the end of it. He shuffled, humped his back and grunted; she must be on her hands and knees, forcing him into her cunt, letting him push himself into her with tiny movements, all he could do. Fire burned across his skin, pleasure and pain merged where he was being fucked by the man - now panting and almost sobbing with excitement as he forced the blunt object into the centaurs arse - fully half of his enormous cock being swallowed by the hungry cunt of the sorceress.

She began to rock back and forth and he howled, prevented by his bonds from wrapping his forelegs around her and fucking her like a mare, forced to keep all four feet on the ground and let her set the pace. He heard her crooning, murmuring her pleasure as she managed to rock herself back and forth, taking him as deep as she could then pulling out until just the massive, flared head plugged the entrance to her cunt.

Explosions in his head, clenching, squeezing in his balls like he’d never felt before and he was coming, forcing his seed into his tormentor in great gushes, his tail lifting and his hindquarters clenching with the power of the spasms rolling through him. Wetness - such a poor amount! - splashed across his hind legs, and he knew the man had shot his load too. The sorceress laughed and moaned, hungry cunt flexing around his cock before she crawled forward to leave him hanging, drooping in his chains and sobbing under his breath.

The scrape of the blade alongside his head, and the blindfold was gone. He glared at her, bared his teeth in exhausted fury.

“Whatever you do to me,” he croaked, “I shall never do your bidding. Never.”

She laughed, sweat, dirt and semen collecting in filthy clots along her glorious body.

“We’ll see about that,” she said with a shrug, and drove the blade into each of his eyes, calmly blinding him as he howled with no more emotion than you would shell a pea.

And then they left him alone in the darkness, bleeding and shaking, hoping against hope that death would find him soon.

~*~

At Yoz’ grim words everyone began to shout at once. The noise rang around the high, spidery rafters of the building, shaking loose a few flakes of rust and a shower of dust; she looked up and opened her palm, catching one of the russet splinters and staring at it for a moment with an expression of extreme interest. Kai was roaring for quiet, Mabon rearing up and trying to catch the attention of Moira, who was flicking through the papers Dan had brought for her. Dirk grabbed Yoz’ elbow and shook her.

“That was fucking helpful!” he snarled, and she cocked her head to look up at him. Then she raised one eyebrow, her blue eye glittering wicked heat at him.

“Mm. Diplomacy has never been my strong point.”

They watched the shouting for a while. The crowd had moved away from them, and in the very centre of it Kai was managing to force the panic down by sheer force of will. She nodded, and put both hands on her hips with a grin.

“Right,” she said, “here’s what we do. You go through that door we came in - it’ll go straight back to the room. No matter what you hear happening out here, _don’t look back_ , OK?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“All in good time. Now go.”

He hesitated, watching her begin to push through the sweating, muttering throng toward Kai, then left when she flicked a hand at him in a brief, imperious gesture. He was halfway to the door when the shrill scream exploded somewhere behind him; it was a sound filled with pain and anger, and at that point he decided he didn’t, actually, want to know what she was up to after all.

Dirk ran, bursting through the shriek of the corrugated iron door and crossing the silvery grey boundary layer in two swift strides. Hands extended before him he felt the door, bounded through it and slammed it behind him.

Breathing in harsh pants he was surprised to see a jug of iced water and a glass on the desk waiting for him; whether the room had expected Yoz to be back first or whether it had forgiven him he didn’t know and, right now, didn’t care either. He slopped a measure of the water into the glass and raised it with a word of thanks to the thin air, pleased to feel a slight change to the atmosphere as he did so.

Perching on the edge of the desk he drank some more water, and waited to see who would be the next person through the door.

~*~

She’d managed to get through the crowd almost to Kai’s side after making sure that Dirk was headed in the right direction. Dan spotted her and made his way through, touching her on the shoulder and asking her questions in a rattle of anxiety. She patted his arm and nodded, intent on reaching Kai; once Dan realised where she was headed he began to use his greater height to get her around and between the swaying bodies of the frightened crowd until she reached him. He was gripping a man’s arm, speaking to him using firm, no-bullshit tones; the fear was beginning to drain from his eyes as he was given his orders, and Yoz glanced at Dan for a moment while they waited for Kai to finish.

Beckoning him close to whisper in his ear, Dan frowned when she muttered: “Sorry about this, mate,” then folded in an untidy heap to the rough, sand covered floor when the iron bar of her will slapped him into unconsciousness.

“Kai!” she barked, dropping to kneel beside the crumpled form of the taller man. She helped turn him over, touched his throat to make sure his pulse was strong. Kai was there in an instant, red hair falling in an untidy tumble over his eyes as he dropped to his knees and put his palm on his friend’s chest.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened to him?” he asked, teeth clenched. He was angry, strung out and vibrating with the force of keeping the emotions of so many under control. He’d been expecting them to react strongly to the news, but was having to use every bit of control Yoz had ever taught him to avoid just losing his temper and frying the lot of them with his anger.

Yoz put one arm across his shoulder, gripping him tight to her, then put her forehead to his temple and laid the other hand on his chest. To the watchers it must have seemed that she was about to share bad news, because they backed off a pace or two. Only Moira held her place, brow furrowed; too late, she figured out what was going to happen but by the time she thought to shout a warning the Magus had already begun her action.

“Hold tight, and I’ll explain later,” was all she said to Kai before linking their talents, and dragging as much power from him as she could.

Light flashed from the pair of them, Moira yelling for Yoz to stop and Kai screaming in pain; the burst of energy that escaped the drain knocked several of the closest watchers to the floor, the rest flinching away with their hands flung over their eyes to protect them from the intense glare. She held the drain, waiting until her hair was beginning to fry and his heart to slow, his body already heavy in her arms. It wouldn’t take him long to build it back up again, but for the next day or so he would be as wobbly as a day old kitten - once he actually woke up.

The light dropped from unbearable through actinic to merely bright, then vanished altogether. But by the time anyone could actually see again the Magus was gone, and Kai was slumped, unconscious, across the body of his friend. Mabon dropped to his knees, reaching out a hand with a soft cry; Kai’s face was so pale and his form so still that he appeared, at first glance, to be dead. The big hand stroked a stray strand of hair from his brow, then pressed gently against the pale throat.

The crowd held their breath, waiting for word.

“He’s alive,” said Mabon with a frown, “but very weak.”

“What did she do?” asked the man Kai had been talking to before Dan’s collapse, “for the love of God, _what did she do to him?_ ”

Moira waited until the centaur had scooped him up, the weight nothing to his brawny arms. Sprawled unconscious and helpless in the centaur’s gentle grip Kai seemed no larger than a child, and the librarian touched his cheek and frowned.

“She drained him. We need to get him back to HQ, quick - you two,” and she waved to a pair of necromancers that had accompanied Peter to the meeting, “bring Dan. And the rest of you,” she raised her voice and waved her papers at them, “gather your forces. Our hand has been forced - we need to move as soon as you can get your people together.”

“But Yoz--” protested someone, and she turned to glare at them.

“Might just be buying us the time we need to gather. Now go, and quickly!”

She took Mabon’s arm, guiding him toward the exit while watching Kai’s face for any sign of returning consciousness.

“I hope you’re right,” rumbled the centaur with a frown.

Moira chewed her lip. “So do I,” she muttered.

~*~

Yoz burst back into the room, slamming the door behind her, and ran to one of the bookshelves without so much as a hello to Dirk. He watched her for a second before turning his attention to the door; it glowed, then the light that had spread across the surface became a fine network of lines that slipped between the stones of the wall and were gone. He smiled, shaking his head, then turned to watch the Magus as she rummaged.

“What’s the rush?” he asked as she trotted past him, mumbling words in some indefinable language.

She raised a finger, grabbing another book and flipping through it for a second. He waited, finished his glass of water then folded his arms. If he had to wait all night he’d get an answer--

The eyes she turned to him made him flinch, swearing under his breath even as she grinned wolfishly at him. The pupils had vanished, the blue eye a swirling, cloudy turquoise and the brown now little but a black hole in the chalky pallor of her face. Her hair stuck out at all angles, and she was trembling; the hand she slapped on his shoulder left his skin tingling, the heat of her palm almost burning a hole in his shirt.

“Yoz!”

If she could speak she was choosing not to. She swung round and looked at him, then grinned that awful, terrifying grin at him again, waving her hand across his eyes in a wordless instruction to close them. He did so, and felt the swirling, folding expression of air around them as the room - or, as she’d observed earlier, apartment - folded itself away into the neat little globule that she carried in her pocket. His pendant gave another jump, tingling against his skin, and she clutched her own and wheezed a quiet little laugh.

His bag, once he opened his eyes and blinked around him at the quiet, clean motel room, sat on the bed in the centre of the room. She dropped hers next to it, and took one of his hands, turning it palm up then placing something in it before folding his fingers closed.

He had a fairly good idea what it was, but when he opened his mouth to object she shook her head, once, sharply. He held his tongue, doing no more than sighing when she also passed him the silvery sphere that Kai had given to her. She brushed her fingers across his forehead, causing him to flinch; she’d passed the key to him - he now knew how to use it, how to access that huge, peculiarly derelict building in the desert that was nowhere - but it was the touch itself that had caused his reaction.

Her skin was burning, not the roaring fever-heat he’d felt when she was carrying the eggs of the Styx inside her changed body but the sort of heat you got when you rubbed your palms together briskly on a cold day. A friction kind of heat, as though every molecule in her body was vibrating so fast that the only way the heat created by the motion could escape was through the skin. If she didn’t stop the tiny, destructive shivers soon they would destroy her, he knew.

“You took his shine, didn’t you,” he breathed, and she cocked her head at him, then winked.

The pendants jumped again, and she bent over hers as though she’d been kicked in the chest; he stepped forward to help her but got waved off. Stepping back, he watched her sketch a quick circle on the carpet, step into it and begin to mouth an incantation. Her hands blurred with a series of quick, jerky movements, and the air around her began to spin. She was travelling; he wasn’t sure how he knew - his guess would be something, some vague memory or impression from what was left of the demon in his mind - but wherever she was going, she must need to be there fast.

And as the air got thicker, the whirling got faster and her shape began to fade inside the circle he saw her mouth a word to him.

He wondered if he’d ever see her again, and nodded as she faded from his view.

 _Goodbye...._

~*~

Kai opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Memory circled, and he clutched at it for a minute before subsiding with a sigh. It would come to him, whatever it was. He’d been dreaming about Yoz, something about snow and--

“You’re awake,” murmured a voice from beside him, and he rolled his head to the side to see who it was.

“Henjo,” he said with a smile, letting his eyes drift closed once they’d verified that yes, it was indeed the faithful Richter slumped uncomfortably in the small armchair by his bedside. Good old Henjo, watching over him....

His eyes snapped open again with alarm, and he tried to sit up. Henjo was there in a heartbeat, supporting him as he struggled to move then collapsed in his arms, panting with the exertion and cursing the weakness that had left his muscles as loose, rubbery threads in his limbs.

“Yoz! Where is - dammit. Dirk? Daniel?”

Henjo pulled him close, holding him against his chest until he stopped the weak struggling and lay still, breathing hard, eyelids already beginning to droop with the exertion.

“They’re fine. We don’t know about Yoz, but Omega says the Weavers are upset about something - Eero’s looking into it for us. Dan was just knocked out and Dirk’s going to travel in with the Amsterdam House; he’s not very happy with her. It’s all coming together, all you need to do is rest, OK?”

Kai mumbled something into Henjo’s skin and was asleep again before he’d been laid back down. Henjo shook his head, settling himself back into the hard, worn seat of the armchair and pulling out a cigarette, lighting it and clenching the butt between his teeth while he watched his friend sleep. He’d rarely seen Kai so still, so pale; usually, his exuberance shone even when he was asleep, somnolence disturbed by small twitches and snorts and munching noises, almost like a dreaming dog. Now, though? Nothing. Just flat out still, only the slow, even breaths showing that he still lived.

Heavy noises approached along the corridor, and the concerned face of Mabon appeared around the sickroom door.

“Henjo? Was he awake?”

He sighed, huffing out a great cloud of blue-grey smoke that had the centaur wrinkling his long nose. “Briefly. I don’t know how much he remembers, though.”

Mabon nodded, and Henjo could hear the swish of the thick blonde tail against the wall outside. “The alchemists are getting nervous. They say they have everything ready except the power source--”

“Kai.”

“Yes.”

Henjo hid his eyes with one hand, then sighed. “I don’t know, Mabon. I’ll let everyone know when he stays awake for more than a few seconds, though.”

The centaur nodded and bowed away, closing the door with an almost silent click before moving off once more. Henjo listened to the hoof beats making their way down the corridor, and had to smile when he imagined the mess that the soup-plate hooves were making of the fine parquet floors and costly rugs that adorned the headquarters building, a Renaissance palace in the hills above Turin.

“Wake up Kai,” he murmured, taking his hand and holding it tight. “We need you. Please....”

~*~

Heels ringing along the corridor, Vega ground her teeth and tried to ignore the small man hopping along at her side. He barely had the breath to tell her his news and keep up at the same time; she could have made it easier for him by slowing down, but she was the one in power and so he could just damn well hop.

“How did she get in?”

“She just sort of,” the man panted, wide eyes becoming desperate as he scuttled to keep up, “appeared. Translocation,” and he gasped again, “spell, we think. But the power was enormous--”

Yoz had dematerialised inside the huge complex with a bang. Literally; she’d appeared some four feet above a bank of computers and had managed to wreak some serious havoc with the force of her fall. Sticking a boot through a few more cabinets as operatives screeched and ran she’d then taken off through the first open door she’d spotted, keeping her activities to just causing as much havoc as she could before being cornered. She’d left a trail of small fires and minor damage, operatives bleeding and wounded but very few dead; nothing major, but enough to disrupt operations and have the entire place in absolute uproar. Rumours had spread like wildfire amongst those operatives not yet shelled out by the Dark; the army was coming, bombs had been placed, the end of their attack was at hand. The Rosicrucians had managed to get their hands on a nuclear device, the hordes of Hell - or Heaven - were on their way, and--

“In here?” snapped Vega, and the little man nodded, now out of breath. The tall woman eyed the door, baring her teeth at it and swearing.

“She should be trapped,” he panted, and the woman spun and aimed a kick at him.

“ _Should_ be? She _should_ be dead, but none of you cretins have managed that yet, have you?”

“She was too fast and too - mistress, please!” he wailed, curling up into a little ball as the pointed toe of her boot found his exposed flank and punched into it, knocking what little breath he’d regained clean out of his body.

The crowd of blank-masked enforcers that were guarding the door stepped back from the sorceress. Vega was dangerous when she was in a good mood, and even the fragments of Dark infesting the host bodies of the soldiers recognised that to get in her way when she was this angry was to risk disintegration.

Vega turned from him with a snarl, and ran fingers - tipped with immaculate, blood red nails - along the cool steel skin of the door. The enemy Magus had gone to ground in a restricted area - of course - and crouched at bay amidst a tangle of wires and ducting, all of which was vital to keep the icy, crushing weight of the snow and ice outside at bay. Destructive magic couldn’t be used to winkle her out, nor small arms fire, nor grenades. In fact, if they so chose they could just seal the door and let her rot; but then, if she knew they were doing that then she’d be able to cause enough damage before thirst and exhaustion caught up with her that they would all be in trouble anyway. And of course while they were repairing their vital life support systems they would be easy prey for their enemies.

So they sat at stalemate, neither willing to make the first move for fear of dooming them all. Vega rested her hand on the door handle, then sneered down at the man at her feet.

“I’ll get her out. Have a cell prepared - and bring the centaur to my lab for further questioning. This won’t take long.”

The door clicked quietly shut behind her, and the man pushed sweat soaked hair back from his forehead. Yes, the Magus Yolanda might be the enemy, but he felt sorry for any sentient creature that Lady Vega got her long-nailed hands on. Shaking his head in dismissal, he hurried to carry out her orders - because of all the sentient creatures he didn’t want to feel her wrath, he was at the top of his list. And if she didn’t get what she wanted when she wanted it then he’d be the first to feel her fury....

His footfalls faded down the corridor, and he soon left the door far behind him.

~*~

“Blimey, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” asked a voice from the gloom as soon as Vega let the door drop closed behind her. She paced the room, eyeing the shadowy nooks and crannies with all her senses, warily evaluating the places the enemy Mage could be hiding.

“Six feet and nine inches,” responded the sorceress mildly, and this time the chuckle came from behind her.

“Shee-yit. That’s big.”

Vega shrugged, homing in on the direction the voice had come from only to be interrupted again.

“And you still wear heels. You must really, really get off on giving guys inferiority complexes.”

Yoz crouched behind a tangle of ducting, squeezed between the silvery metal and a bunch of tangling wires. Balanced on palms and the balls of her feet her spine was arched, ready to leap straight out of her hiding place and rip the throat out of the first person to find her. She could stay here for days if she had to; her body was obeying her dictates and - after the amount of power she’d stolen from Kai - she was feeling far more cheerful than she should have been, considering that her mission was essentially a suicide one. With the news of Hephaestus’ capture upsetting the Rosicrucian plans someone had to get down here and give the Illuminati something to think about that didn’t involve world domination.

And it meant she got to work alone again, which was far more fun than she remembered. But then, maybe that was because she still had enough energy stored to fly, if she had to.

Pushing thoughts of Dirk, Kai and Henjo from her mind she watched the giant sorceress, evaluating her movements and reaching out to observe the mental processes that Vega wasn’t bothering to hide. Or maybe she’d never learned; there’d been whispering over the last few years of a raw new power on the scene, but nothing more concrete than just that. Which meant that she wasn’t getting formal training from anyone, and no matter how talented she was her skills and her power were, therefore, essentially unguided. Therefore naïve. Therefore vulnerable.

Probably.

Yoz grinned. And her enemy being a woman was going to make the eventual victory all the sweeter. Of course, one Magus alone against all the power of the Dark gathered here?

Her ass was grass, eventually.

But she was going to take a good few of them with her, and if she could buy enough time for the opposing forces to get down here and mop up so much the better. Time to stir and meddle and generally screw things up for them, and she almost laughed with the thought.

“Never could get the hang of heels, myself,” she added, making her voice appear to come from somewhere near the floor on the other side of the room, watching the sorceress spin and glare. Oh, this was fun....

“They never,” replied Vega with a tone frosty enough to drop the temperature ten degrees, “look terribly good on women with short fat legs. I know you, Yolanda Arabella Bowsher, I know your name.”

“That was a nasty crack about the legs, my friend,” snorted Yoz, “and yeah, you know _that_ name. Got lots more you can play with. So tell me. What’s a nice girl like you doing playing with the Dark?”

The other woman halted in the centre of the room, cocking her head and looking with her mind. Long hair spilled across one shoulder, the dark red flaring with gold highlights in the low sputter of the flourescents; green eyes scanned the tangles of wires that wound across and through the ducting, briars to the silvery branches of the systems that kept their bodies alive in this hostile landscape. Somewhere in all this artificial life hid her enemy - and she was losing patience with the hunt.

“You sold your soul for power, did you not?”

“Aye, but I had my reasons.”

“And so do I.”

“Don’t doubt it. Shame we couldn’t have met before you did it, though; I could have taught you a lot.”

“You could teach me _nothing_ ,” spat the sorceress, her eyes flashing as she spun to try and identify where the light, mocking voice was coming from. Yoz laughed.

“Oh dear! Delusions of grandeur, wot? We can all learn, my dear. The day you stop learning is the day you die.”

Vega turned, and Yoz took a chance. Leaping straight out of her hiding place she hit the back of the sorceress’ shoulders, using the momentum to carry her to the ground and attempting to slam her nose into the concrete. The other woman was fast, despite her size; the Mage’s plan to hit hard and bounce back up amongst the ducting was foiled by the way the bigger woman turned like a snake, pinning her to the ground and grinning nastily when Yoz yelped a curse of surprise.

Slapping, snarling and punching the two women rolled across the floor, too busy with the physicality of the fight to even think of trying to use any of their more esoteric skills on each other. Experience told, in the end; Yoz broke free and swarmed straight up a length of ducting, pressing herself into the corner and snapping down at her opponent. Vega picked herself up, dusting down the long, leather encased legs with a sneer for the ineffectual attack.

“You’re wasting your time, Magus. Come down from there and we’ll talk.”

Yoz spat a clot of blood to splat wetly on the concrete near the pointed toe of one boot, and Vega smiled.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, and her voice held compassion that the other woman didn’t believe for a moment.

“Nope,” she said, and laughed. Baring bloodstained teeth at her opponent she leaned forward from her perch, glaring at the woman with burning, mismatched eyes. “As for talking, you can stuff it. I’m dead anyway, so guess what?”

She began to yank wires, kicking one of the silvery struts that held a spur of the life-giving ducting. Vega screamed, and Yoz laughed.

“If I’m dead, so are you.”

The sorceress spun, seeing all the preparation, all the planning being brought down by the determined figure in the corner, extending tendrils of force to curl and smash and destroy. Screaming curses, she used her own skill to grab a whipping pipe of live steam and shove the smashed end at the woman in the corner. Yoz yelped, losing her grip when the scalding vapour lashed across her side; grabbing for support she dropped her guard for a moment, and Vega hit her again.

She landed on the concrete with a crunch, and lay still. Vega cursed, striding across to fling the door open and bark orders at the gaggle of enforcers that waited outside. They scuttled to do her bidding, and she returned to poke the unconscious Magus with the toe of her boot with a wry smile.

“And so it ends, Yolanda. Quite fitting, don’t you think?”

“My lady?” quavered a voice, and she cocked her head to see her assistant cowering before her.

“Edward,” she said with a smile. “See that the repairs progress swiftly. And arrange for this,” she kicked Yoz in the side, hard, “to be taken to the place we have prepared for her. You know where to find me when it’s done.”

Edward bowed deeply, almost prostrating himself across the wet concrete, and when he looked up Vega had gone. Waving his hand across the limp figure of the unconscious woman he lifted her with his own stolen power, and began to make his way toward the special cell he had arranged on his mistress’ orders. The damage would soon be repaired, and then they could finish the job they had started with no more interference.

And bring the entire world to heel.

~*~

Considering how often it seemed that she came round from unconsciousness caused by physical damage, Yoz would have thought that she would have been used to it by now.

Turning over with a moan of pain, she discovered she wasn’t. It still bloody hurt.

Mind you, she thought as she grumbled her way to a sitting position, at least she was on her own in this - she cracked her eyes open to get an idea of where she’d been dumped, none too gently from the feel of it - featureless grey box. Which meant she could use what was left of the stolen power to fix the worst of her hurts. Starting with the broken collarbone, skipping across the broken ribs, taking in the nasty scalds and cooked bits from the steam feed, and finishing up with the bruises and other contusions from the fall.

Feeling rather better, she pushed herself into a cross-legged position and looked around herself with interest. Might as well get what information she could before they came to kill her.

Apparently, Vega - she’d picked the name from a dozen minds as she charged through the base spreading gleeful destruction - really didn’t trust her not to escape. Her prison was a box made of some sort of synthetic material, surrounded by so many wards and protective spells it would have taken her a week to unravel them all.

Nice to know her reputation still preceded her.

She pinched a crumpled cigarette between her teeth, and lit it. Now what?

Well, Vega was probably off doing something unpleasant to someone in order to get the damage fixed as quickly as possible. Yoz had learned a lot about the other woman during their little confrontation; she was very powerful, unorthodox in her approach, organised and wary. She had a massive chip on her shoulder, memories of being called a freak, pushed out to the fringes of society. That chip was big enough to kill them all, because it was her hatred of just about everything that had led her to serving the Dark.

It had been supporting her, nudging her to learn more, put what she picked up into practice, working on her appetites and desires until she thought that she had no option but to choose this path.

In which case, there was hope. Maybe if she could be persuaded that the Dark wasn’t her only option she might lose her conviction. Pick a different path.

Cut off the head, and the serpent dies.

Yoz pushed herself to her feet and dusted off her jeans. The box of her prison was only solid half way up; the rest of it consisted of bars made of more of the same composite material, far more resistant to magic than steel or iron. Vega was up on her current research, anyway. Looking around the lab - looked like she was pretty into her own research as well as keeping abreast of everybody else’s - Yoz spied a small man, hunched on a chair and talking to himself. She tapped on the bars, receiving no response.

“Oi.”

He looked up at her, and she flicked her cigarette end at him.

“You’re awake,” he said with a nod, jumping to his feet and approaching her prison with many a spastic twitch. Yoz raised her eyebrows. This man was terrified, but at the same time lost in adoration of his mistress; Vega apparently knew how to turn her servants into mindless drones without turning them over to the Dark first.

Interesting.

“The Lady Vega wishes you to observe her methods,” he said, licking cracked, dry lips and avoiding her eye, “so that you will know,” and he paused to shake his head, undoubtedly having been warned of the dire consequences if he forgot any of his speech. Yoz leaned on the bars and lit another cigarette. “So that you will know the folly of opposing her.”

“Whatever, squire.”

He paused with his hands on the lock. “Do not try and escape. It is--”

“I’ll be good. Come on, open the damn door.”

He waved her back while he muttered the complicated incantation which keyed the weave of spells that held Yoz prisoner. Leaning on the back wall of her dreary box, Yoz touched one finger to the pendant she still wore, and sneaked a threadline of thought through the opening spells to touch Kai’s mind. If she could just open a small link - there. Hopefully nobody would spot it, and she could pass him enough information to get the Rosicrucians moving before...whatever happened to her.

Strange that faced with the certainty of her own death she was so calm. For years she’d been ducking it, running and hiding and going into all sorts of complicated contortions to avoid it; but now, with it looming, she felt remarkably serene. What would be would be, and it was easy to be altruistic at this stage. She had nothing to gain by not sharing everything she knew with the ones she’d claimed as her kin.

A sleepy movement in her mind, and she knew Kai was awake.

 _Yoz?_

 _Yup, it’s me. Pay attention. I’ve been captured - this is the last thing you’ll hear from me, so don’t miss anything. Use what you can._

 _What do you mean the - oh._ He’d picked up the wordless flow of images that described what had been happening, flickering faster than any words through the slender thread of their link. _But I’m so tired. You took it all, Yoz._

 _For crying out loud. Reach for what makes you shine the brightest and it’ll be back._

 _What?_

 _Not_ now _, Kai. Watch. Learn._

Edward - the twitching, near mindless servant - led Yoz down several twisting, gloomy corridors, studded with grey doors as featureless as the walls. She sent as much information as she could to Kai, layout and systems, arrangements of guards and command structure, how he could destroy the place and send it crashing in on itself to sleep under the eternal snow until the end of the world. He didn’t try to protest, just hung on and watched.

They came to another door, this one no different from the rest at first glance; from behind it, however, the scrape of hooves could be heard, and a voice moaning in pain in fear.

“My mistress,” said Edward, and ushered Yoz through.

~*~

Anybody else would probably have been shocked. All Yoz did was hiss between her teeth at the sight of the sorely abused centaur, hanging now in his chains, exhausted and in pain. His legs trembled, blind head hanging between his arms, blood and sweat dripping from his flanks where he’d been beaten with an assortment of different whips. The smell of sex was in the air, and Yoz couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose when Vega approached, stark naked and still covered with the evidence of her actions.

“Are you shocked, Yolanda?” asked the sorceress, smiling wryly. Blood stained her full lips, and her tongue travelled across them, lazily cleaning up the traces even as her fingers drew trails in the mix of filth, semen and sweat that coated her body.

“Me? Nah. Not very happy to see the state of poor old Hephaestus there, though. Do you always break your toys?”

The centaur’s head weaved up at the sound of her voice, ragged eyelids trying to blink over the remaining shreds of tissue that were all that was left of his eyes. He tried to call, but subsided in a fit of harsh coughing, collapsing into the biting embrace of his chains once more. Yoz shook her head.

“This is nothing,” said Vega lightly, green eyes dancing with mischief. “But as for breaking things - why, I suppose I do. And soon it will be your turn.”

“Hope you’re going to shower first,” replied Yoz.

Vega laughed, and beckoned for the Magus to follow her. “Of course! Ah, but it’s a shame we didn’t meet before--”

They entered another room, this one much softer, less by way of chains and more of carpets, scarlet drapes, rugs and mirrors. The sorceress made her way to a corner shower unit, stepping into it and continuing to speak while she cleaned herself off. Yoz just watched and smoked, somewhat amused that despite her power Vega still kept a rather scruffy bear in her bed, albeit almost hidden under a fold of the satin sheets. Seemed she hadn’t quite burned away the last shreds of sentimentality after all.

“And then what?” Yoz asked, flicking her ash into the deep pile of the carpet, stirring it with the toe of her boot, “the Magus and the sorceress? Lesbian magicians taking over the world?”

Vega stretched her wet limbs and smiled. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a stupid idea. First you take the world, then you got to run it, see? Somebody has to take out the trash.”

“That’s what men are for.”

Yoz laughed, hiding her eyes with one hand and shaking her head. Inside her mind, Kai protested faintly at having his view of the naked woman obscured, and she sent an affectionate snort of mock-disgust his way and bade him be silent.

“God, you’ve got no idea, have you? Vega,” and the Magus sighed, “have you the slightest clue of what you could achieve with the right backing?”

The tall woman flung herself on the bed and rolled across the satin of the sheets, the pale of her skin contrasting most prettily with the black and scarlet beneath her. Yoz leaned on one of the elegantly carved bedposts and watched her, expression held still at the sensual display.

“And now you’re going to tell me that you can get me the right backing, are you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. The Council don’t like me much, but they do listen.”

“But they are working with the Rosicrucians.”

“Only because you’ve forced them to. Give them half a chance and they’d much rather squabble amongst themselves, you know that - it’s the same for anyone in our line of work. We do not, on the whole,” and here she grinned at the naked woman, still writhing while she watched her, “play nicely together. By the way, what _are_ you doing?”

Vega sat up and laughed, looping her arms around her knees and hugging them. The action made her look much younger, and if you hadn’t seen her torturing and raping a prisoner not half an hour before you would never have believed her capable of such a thing.

“Trying to seduce you.”

Yoz laughed. “You’re honest, I’ll give you that. But no thanks.”

“You don’t like women?”

With a groan the Magus lit another cigarette. “From what I can see you’ve used a hell of a lot of sex magic to get your power, right? And you’ve used your body to get what you want. Well, I’m not above doing that when I have to--”

“So I hear.”

“--and it don’t matter to me what you’ve got in your pants when the time’s right. But I’d rather cut my own head off than fuck you, girlie.”

Vega snarled, and she raised a fist; Yoz simply lifted her palm, deflecting the shock wave that the sorceress had created to slap her with. Glass tinkled behind her as the wave impacted one of the many mirrors in the room, and Yoz snorted.

“Seven year’s bad luck that, y’know. And that should prove everything I need to tell you - give this up, girl. Come away from here and let me find you a teacher, someone who can show you how to use all that potential. Because you’ve got it, I can see that - you just need to stop wasting it on this bloody lot. Once they win there won’t be anybody left to rule, and you know it!”

Jumping from the bed she used her greater height to back Yoz up, pushing her back toward the centre of the room. “And do you think I care? The world that rejected me, called me freak? I am not of them, not of their blood! The Dark came to me and showed me my true heritage, showed me who I truly am!”

She raised her arms, gesturing toward the ceiling with a face wreathed in exultation. From the arch of the roof dark tendrils, like glossy vines, dropped to run across her skin, curling around her limbs and stroking her flesh.

“I am of the ones that came before time, before the Great Flood, the bloodline from the stars! I am of the Ones that came and raised a naked ape to the dominant species of the planet! I am the spider in the rose, the mantis in the leaves! I am so much more than human that you cannot comprehend the ages I can see, the mists of time that dance for me, the veils that part before my vision! The very stars whirl at my word, as they did for my ancestors!”

She was shouting now, a great column of the black, matt tendrils falling behind and around her, stroking her skin, lifting her hair, caressing and petting her. _“I am Annunaki!”_

 _She’s bonkers,_ muttered Kai in Yoz’ head.

Silence fell, broken only by the rustling of the black ropes making love to the body of their disciple, Vega’s harsh panting - and Yoz flicking the little wheel of her lighter to light another cigarette, cupping her hand around the flame to protect it from the breeze created by the sorceress and her swaying, twisting attendants. She shot a quick sideways glance at the sweating, panting woman, and chuckled.

“Mm? Oh, you’re done. Right.” She straightened up, and lifted the pendant from around her neck. Far away, Kai pushed his consciousness outward; she was about to break the link, afraid that the Dark could somehow track back to him and the others, but he was determined to watch this scene play out to the end. The Magus turned the sigil, watching the light flicker from its surface for a moment before turning back to the sorceress as though she’d forgotten about her. Vega remained where she was, eyes wide and mad, arms outstretched, receiving the homage of her Dark master.

Yoz snorted blue smoke.

“Actually,” she said, twirling the sigil, “you’re not. In a lot of ways you’re like me - just a freak who found her way to power, any way she could. In this life, _this_ is power.”

She dangled the sigil, Vega’s eyes following the bounce and twist of the glittering pendant. “You know that, don’t you? Yeah, you do. I can see it in your eyes. That’s why you’re a lowly sorceress, and you’ll never be anything else; you can’t accept it, can you? You refuse to accept that you can’t just fuck your way to the top, or intimidate your way to power. Because all we have to do is break your link to the Dark and everything you have crumbles--” and with a single, convulsive move of her fingers Yoz crushed the pendant, “--like dust.”

She opened her palm and blew the shattered, shining debris from it in a whirling cloud.

Vega screamed, and Yoz stood and watched her, finishing her cigarette.

 _Yoz!_

 _Still here? Clever bastard._

 _But what--_

 _Shut up, and watch._

She lowered her arms, the Dark remaining across her body like a great, living cloak, rolling with a hiss like sand under waves. Yoz dropped her cigarette end, crushing it into the carpet with the toe of her boot and opening her hands to the madwoman towering over her. Her grin was savage, inviting mayhem even while she laughed.

“So, you want me to prove it?”

Vega hissed. “No need,” she said, and the column of blackness lunged from around her to hover over the Magus, swirling with the hunger to extinguish her light.

“That’s cheating,” said the Magus mildly, and was engulfed by the lightless mass before she could even say goodbye.

Vega watched the Dark that she worshipped crush the other woman, rolling around her and seeping into her very being, then laughed and went to get dressed. She had a war to plan.

~*~

Halfway across the planet Kai jerked upright in bed, crying out hoarsely. Henjo, dozing in the chair next to him, leaped straight to full consciousness, surging forward to catch his friend as he fell from the bed.

“Henjo! She is - no, can’t be but I saw it!”

Still weak, Kai was trembling with exhaustion by the time Henjo managed to get him back on the bed. The commotion had drawn others, Eero sticking his head round the door and fleeing for Dan at Henjo’s sharp bark, colliding with Mabon in the corridor and sprinting past half a dozen others, yelling the news that Kai was awake and something had happened to Yoz. Something bad.

Fighting exhaustion, Kai was struggling out of bed and looking for his jeans while Henjo argued with him.

“Kai, you’re not strong enough to do this. Whatever she’s doing you can’t change it--”

Lunging at Henjo, Kai grabbed his shirt and bunched it in his fists, as much for support as in anger. “I don’t care! Now either help me or fuck off!”

A huge hand passed Kai’s jeans to him, Mabon watching the scene with some amusement. Kai began to talk, bringing them up to date with what was happening far to the south; by the time he’d done he was almost retching with effort, Henjo’s face pinched with worry and the news flying through the building from mouth to mouth with the speed of hearsay.

“We have to get the troops moving,” he gasped, and Henjo shared a desperate glance with the centaur.

“We cannot,” rumbled the stallion. “You are the power and you, my friend, are weakened beyond belief. The effort would surely kill you.”

Grinding his teeth, Kai leaned on Henjo and thought hard. What had she said? _Reach for what makes you shine the brightest...._

Eyes snapping open, he grabbed Mabon’s arm and shook it with what remained of his strength.

“Get Dirk here, now. Henjo, Dan, Eero, Dirk and me - _that’s_ how I’ll get it back!”

And with those words, he fainted.

~*~

Panic spread through the headquarters. Rumour twisted through the ancient building; Yoz was dead, Yoz had changed sides, Kai was dead, the war was over and they’d lost. Or won. Or the top brass had been arrested and the attack was off, or the gates of Hell had opened up and--

“This is ridiculous,” snapped Moira, trotting at Alpha’s side down to the main communications room next to the library.

“But it must be dealt with,” muttered the man, florid face shining with sweat. “Has Jason better control of his device now?”

“So he says,” sighed the librarian, following Alpha into a room filled with people and papers and strange pieces of equipment, faces and voices cluttering the air with insubstantial worries, half-formed words and fretful ideas. Alpha raised his hands and called for quiet, all in the room, turning to watch him, whether actually present or just there on a suspended screen.

“Master Hammond!”

Jason’s face appeared, pinched and tired, glasses somewhat askew on his long nose. “Alpha,” he said, “and good morning Moi.”

She gave him a rather concerned little wave, and went back to chewing her lip in silence.

“You are at the Amsterdam House, are you not?”

“Yeah,” yawned the experimental alchemist with a sigh. “Look, what’s this all about?”

“You need to get Mr. Schlächter here. Immediately. You have refined your device, yes?”

“Well, yeah--”

“Then use it. Master Davidson here will transmit the co-ordinates--”

And Alpha swept out, followed by fully half of the individuals from the room, some still in their ghostly, transmitted forms as they yammered and demanded news. Jason regarded his lover with calm incomprehension, and shook his head.

“You going to explain, Moi?”

“No time. But send Dirk...here. OK? Oh, and you might want to let the Amsterdam House know that the order to move can’t be far behind.”

“Shit.”

“Precisely.”

~*~

At least this time, thought Dirk as he uncurled from the ball he’d wrapped himself into, he hadn’t arrived in a rubbish bin. No, he’d just been spat out of the ether at high velocity to bounce across the gravelled courtyard and roll to a halt against the boundary wall, upside down and bleeding from a dozen scrapes to his hands, arms and face. Bashed up and not a shot fired in anger yet. Marvellous.

Jason may have refined his infernal device, but it would never catch on.

Voices surrounded him, hands getting under his arms and dragging him to his feet. Faces he didn’t recognise in a whirl around him, jabbering questions in half a dozen different languages until he wanted to howl. One more voice roared, and the small crowd dived aside to allow Mabon room to pass.

“Dirk!”

He had to search his memory for a moment for the centaur’s name, but it came to him as he extended his hand to shake the huge paw offered to him. The centaur grinned, but worry lurked behind the bright hazel eyes as the chestnut swung and stamped.

“Mabon. What’s the rush?”

“No time - I’ll explain on the way. It’ll be faster if I give you a lift.”

Dirk eyed the centaur’s back, almost level with his chin. That was a long jump, and he had no idea how he was going to stay on; that was the least of his worries, however, as the crowd surged back and hands cupped to give him a leg up. He licked his lips and looked up at the tall centaur, praying mentally that he was wrong.

“Ride you?”

“Only in a transportation sense,” Mabon laughed, and before he had to explain the blush to anyone Dirk allowed himself to be boosted to the broad back. “Right! hands around my waist, no grabbing, but hold on tight!”

It was a nightmare, he decided as the huge haunches bunched and released, sending the half-human form hurtling across the courtyard toward the open door. Squeezing his eyes shut he scrunched low on Mabon’s back as they swept through, digging his fingers into the smooth skin as the surface under his backside dipped and rose with a lurch as the wide hooves began their thunder up the broad marble stairs.

“Grip with your knees!” cried Mabon cheerfully as he cantered along a corridor, faces appearing from doorways and pulling back as the chestnut whirlwind - plus one - charged past them.

The halt was worse than he could have imagined, crashing into the broad human shoulders and smacking his nose hard on the muscular neck. Henjo’s voice rose, and Dan’s; Eero was there in the mix as well, but no Kai. The centaur ducked through the door, and with a twist Dirk was falling, more hands catching him and lowering him to the floor.

“Are you OK?” asked Dan, and he wobbled to his feet.

“I think I’m going to puke,” he breathed, stretching out a hand to prop himself against Mabon’s shoulder while he got his breath back.

“Nonsense!” laughed the centaur, and with a clap on the back that almost knocked him over - again - clattered out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving the five men alone.

~*~

Kai had managed to force himself to a cross legged position on the bed, the others perched around him as he explained what he thought he needed to do. If they were going to take advantage of Yoz’ sacrifice then their forces had to move, now; but he was so weak that to do so would kill him. So he had to get it back, and she’d given him just the hint he needed to work it out.

“It would be better if we could actually play,” he said, the shadows under his eyes black smudges of exhaustion, “but since we can’t, then we’re just going to have to do it in our heads.”

“What,” asked Dirk, rubbing his hand across his eyes, tired beyond belief. The travel had worn him worse than he would have thought, that and not sleeping properly for the worry of what they were about to attempt, “are you talking about?”

“She said to ‘reach for what makes me shine the brightest’,” Kai explained with a tired little laugh. “Which is when I’m playing. When _we’re_ playing. And I don’t mean you and I doing a guest appearance, I mean all five of us. Gamma Ray.”

Eero shrugged, about to object that he wasn’t a permanent member of the band, but a sharp glance from Dan stopped him. Well, whatever, he thought as he joined hands with the others; this was crazy, but if it was the craziest thing he had to do over the next few days he’d be quite happy.

Go back, Kai said. Think of the last time they’d performed, the last time they’d been that strange entity made up of the five of them and the seething, surging crowd and the skills of the faceless backline boys, the staff and the techs and the whole sprawling monster that, just for a little while, came together as one beast. The emotion and the energy that swept all before it, linking each individual into something greater than the whole--

They all felt it. The connection was made, the memory tapping into something greater than any of them had ever imagined, linking with Kai’s talent and ripping through the five of them, spreading to touch every person in the building. The sky rumbled, the power even drawing a roar from the heavens; a crack of thunder rolling back from the mountains, a spike of lightning and the sky was calm again.

Far to the south, one of the watchers called a report to the Lady Vega that the Rosicrucian House in Turin had just lit up like a box of fireworks, and she steepled her fingers as she considered the ramifications of this. With their tame Magus dead, however, she didn’t think it was important, and continued to plan the next stage of her assault on the captive centaur.

Kai blinked his eyes open, and grinned at the expressions of astonishment on the faces of his friends.

“Come on,” he said, and bounced from the bed to run out the door, heading for the main communications centre - and war.

 _~TBC~_


	11. Lake Of Tears

_****_

Lake Of Tears

 

Between the three leaders of the Order and Moira, the Rosicrucian forces were beginning to assemble by the time Kai tumbled through into the vast space set aside by the Weavers for just this very purpose, the other four at his heels. All was alive with activity, people being issued guns, grenades and less obvious weapons from a series of long tables. Spotting a familiar face, Kai called Jason across from where he was arguing with another alchemist, the discussion appearing quite heated before he turned on his heel and trotted across the gritty floor to Kai’s side.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine, if some of these idiots could forget that this isn’t about scoring points,” growled the alchemist, taking his glasses off and polishing them on his shirt tail, scowling.

“Let me know where you need me--”

Carl, the small man from the dungeons of Gutenfels, appeared at Jason’s side by some magic of his own. He tugged on Jason’s sleeve, and stared at Kai mournfully with weak pale eyes, vastly magnified by the pair of lenses that were currently fixed in position. The others still projected from the complicated framework around his head, and Kai smiled at the strange little alchemist.

“We’re ready,” he said, nodded at Kai and ducked away into the confusion again. Jason scrubbed one hand across his eyes, and settled his glasses back with a sigh.

Moira shoved her way through, waving a sheaf of papers and yelling for attention. “There you are, Kai! I was talking to Alpha, and we thought that you could get the wormholes open and go in with the second wave, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Jason waved over the heads of the crowd, and several members of his team began to gather bits and pieces and trot toward them.

Eero tried not to blanch. Dan slung one arm across his shoulders, hugging the youngster; he’d already decided that the Finn wasn’t going to be forced to come and fight with them, and to Hell with anyone that said different.

Moira was flicking through her paperwork again. “We thought you wouldn’t want to be separated, so if--”

“Eero’s not going,” said Dan, his face set. The librarian looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise.

“Of course not. I had him down to stay with the headquarters team here, co-ordinating the supply chain and receiving wounded. If that’s all right with you, Eero?”

He nodded, relief written on his pale face. Dan huffed, his readiness to argue knocked out of him by the pre-planning. Moira grinned.

“Mister Zimmerman, if you think we’d send someone as traumatised as he’s been into battle you must think we’re as wicked as the enemy. For shame. Now,” and she bent back to her papers, ignoring the blush that spread across the towering drummer’s face, “the rest of you. If Henjo stays with Kai and Dirk teams up with Dan - sound reasonable? Good. We thought if you went through with the Arcadians and the--”

A skylight in the roof thumped back, dropping a shower of rust and windblown sand down to the throng below. Dark shapes began to boil through it, dropping from the open hole to fly in a blizzard of brown wings around the hot, dry space. Sharp, high cries rang around the hangar, and some ducked even as others grinned to see such fierce, agile allies joining them.

“--and the Vespertillo, whose timing is, as ever, astounding.”

The confusion of wings began to sort itself out, regiments of the bats swinging themselves up to cling from the struts of the roof and watch the gathering below with bright, active gazes, dark eyes missing nothing and sharp teeth flashing in the gloom as they chattered and rustled. Claws tipped with steel sent back shards of splintered light, and two familiar shapes swept away from the mass to hover over Kai’s head. He laughed up at them, stepping back to allow them room to land before moving in to sweep Basti up in a great bear hug. Polaris flung herself at Henjo, almost climbing the long body in order to give him an enthusiastic kiss, rubbing her breasts against him and whispering wicked thoughts into his ear, her tail sliding between his legs to tease his balls. He blushed, hugging her back and hoping nobody was going to notice the instant hardon he’d got at some of her more outrageous suggestions.

Two more males hovered in, dropping to land behind Basti and waiting politely to greet Kai. One of them nudged the other with a pointed elbow, swarthy face splitting in a grin to reveal gleaming teeth. The third male snorted, arching an elegant eyebrow at the female, now leaning on Henjo and rubbing his backside with her claw hook.

“I have brought allies,” grinned Basti, “Kralle from north Africa, and Quin from Honduras, with all the fighting females not currently nursing. There should be,” and Basti cocked his head up to watch the trapdoor in the roof bang open once more, admitting a rather more unruly cloud of bats, “ah, yes. Several bachelor groups have agreed to fight with us.”

“Perhaps,” laughed Quin, “they are hoping to steal some ladies for themselves.”

“Or that we shall fall,” winked Kralle, shaking his head at Polaris. “Daughter of the Northern Star, must you slum so with a human?”

Henjo blinked at the casual insult, but Basti spoke first.

“Until you have some idea of the power of the individual of which you speak, brother, you would be wise to speak a little more softly around the warrior Richter.”

And he bowed, making Kai grin.

“Yeah. Or he’ll set your house on you.”

The male bat grumbled under his breath but apologised with a bow. Basti clapped Kai on the shoulder, dropping him a wink. “We shall await your word,” he said, “come, Polaris. Gentlemen - may we all meet tonight to drink each other’s health with the blood of our enemies.”

The four took off, showering the company with scattered sand and sweeping up to chivvy the newest contingent to their assigned places before finding a perch for themselves. Moira snorted, brushing gritty yellow grains from the shoulder of her jacket with her papers before tapping Kai on the arm with them.

“Gents, Jason has equipment for each of you. And protective attire - yes, I know it looks like leather but trust me on this. It’s fire and frost proof, has been treated to turn minor spells and small cantrips, and--”

Eero patted Dan’s arm, giving him a quick hug before making his way to where medical supplies could be seen piling up, the triage station for the wounded that would start making their way back here as soon as the fighting actually started. Listening to Moira’s instructions, the four remaining exchanged glances; although they didn’t share Basti’s hope that enemy blood would be involved they hoped he was right about being able to meet after the battle.

But first they had to fight it. And survive.

~*~

Watching the once solid frame of the centaur being dragged back to his cell, Vega felt...uneasy. By now, the Dark she’d summoned should have informed her that the essence of the Magus had been erased from existence, swallowed up into its eternal, endless body. That it hadn’t meant that either Yoz was putting up one hell of a fight, or that it wasn’t as interested in bringing her updates as it once had been.

Perhaps, she thought, chewing on her lip and frowning, green eyes shadowed to a muddier shade of hazel with worry, she hadn’t been getting results swiftly enough? True, the Dark - via its tame organisation, the Illuminati - had progressed further than it ever had before in its war for dominion. The modern age was ripe for it, after all; uncertainty and fear, misinformation and distrust running higher than they ever had in the past.

And yet, and yet.

The Light refused to give in. It picked itself up and fought back, and even those notorious for their self interest - she thought once more of the Magus who should, by now, be dead and more than dead - were moved to fight in its defence.

“Lady Vega,” whispered a voice, and she turned to see one of the avatars of the Dark, watching her with expressionless eyes. Edward hopped and twitched beside it, his agitation clear. She’d left orders never to be disturbed while she was...amusing herself...and Edward was fully aware that he would be the one to bear the brunt of her anger. And yet it was here, the black pools of its eyes measuring her.

“What?” she snapped, straightening her spine and looking down her nose at the avatar. Trying to intimidate it was pointless, of course; the force that drove it couldn’t care less how tall or frightening you were. You were alive, or you were dead - that was all the distinction it made.

“There has been a development. It is time to awaken the sleepers.”

She went pale. Had it progressed so far...?

Her mind strayed to the vast, icy caverns, lined with hundreds of quiescent, drained bodies just awaiting the spark of blackness that would animate them once more. Soulless, unfeeling, untiring, they would fight until they were torn to pieces. One mind, one force - and almost as terrifying to the sorceress as the imagined hordes of Light. For the still sleeping force could not, once awakened, be intimidated, or ruled, or bent to her will - if the Dark wanted them to go one way they would go, and nothing she could do would make them divert their course one iota.

She snapped her attention back to the avatar, standing loose and relaxed, watching her coldly.

“Give me a minute. I’ll be there. Edward?”

The small man sidled up to her, cringing. “Prepare the sacrifice. And lay out my outfit. Quickly!”

He scampered away, leaving her to incline her head to the avatar. “All shall be ready,” she said.

“Good,” it replied, and she felt a minor thrill of horror run down her spine to see it give a tiny, tooth-baring smile. “Or you may find yourself first into battle.”

With that, it turned and left the room, leaving her dumbfounded for a moment before running for her quarters to ready herself. It was time.

~*~

Fear rolled down Kai’s spine. The apparatus was ready, humming to itself where it sat on the sand, black boxes festooned with wire and strange silvery rods, buttons and things that looked as though they belonged in a shop where New Agers bought crystals and pendants, so sure that it was real magic.

This _was_ real magic, but it didn’t look like it. It looked more like an explosion in a mattress factory, to be quite honest.

And they were all, every single one of them, going to be putting their very existence in the mechanical embrace of these...things. It was one thing to be told that it was quite safe, but another to--

“We’re ready,” said Jason’s voice quietly, and Kai took a deep breath. His plan was to get the vortices started, then step up and say a few words to those close enough to hear him. Then they’d start moving, and he would be part of the second wave through.

To fight. And maybe die.

He swallowed hard. He shouldn’t be doing this - he was a musician! He should be buried in a studio somewhere, recording some inconsequential ditties that would delight their fans and be ignored by the larger population, his most important decision of the day something to do with the levels of the bass on the master. Not life and death stuff. What the Hell was he doing mucking about with such fundamental decisions, war, mayhem, destruction?

 _Remember Hanne_ , said a voice in the back of his head, and damned if it didn’t sound like Yoz.

She had a point, though.

Nodding at Jason he stepped forward, laying his palm on top of the machine. Heat, warm and alive and questioning, curled over the back of his hand; he closed his eyes, watched the machine with his Other sight. It sent a tendril up his arm, lazily caressing his arm and hand, getting a feel and a taste for him. It had to do this, according to Carl, so that it would accept his power. Following the instructions he’d been given, he asked the almost-consciousness of the machine to show him its heart; it opened like a flower, peeling back its layers and giving him access to its thrumming, whirring centre.

 _Here goes nothing_ , he thought, and opened up the conduit in his mind to give the machine the push it needed to lift itself to full power.

Jason and Carl both ducked, flinching instinctively away from the bellow that man and machine both gave at the same time. A flash of light - as golden as the sands outside this timeless place - washed over the assembled army, drew itself into a bright, burning spot hovering over Kai’s hand, then shot off to halt between the focusing silver rods, blowing outward into a rolling, coruscating disc of golden spears. Settling to a slow whirl, the sound and the surrounding glow damped to a hum no louder than the original noise had been, the opening no more than a slight shimmer. Henjo was the first one to Kai’s side, hesitating to touch him for a moment, then yelping when a sharp spark jumped to burn his fingertips, magical static left over from the colossal burn.

“Are you OK?” he asked, shaking his stinging fingers. Kai blinked, staring wide eyed at nothing for a moment, then shook himself with a huff.

“Fine. It was a bit - different. I know what to expect next time, though.”

Jason and Carl exchanged a glance. So did they - now. And it probably wasn’t a good time to mention that the rather violent reaction to Kai’s power wasn’t what they’d expected; Kai moved to start the second wormhole, and Jason trotted across to where Alpha and Balance could be seen watching the operation. He inclined his head to them, and pointed out that as the equipment was behaving in an - and he hesitated, wondering how best to phrase it - _unexpected_ fashion, perhaps it would be better to send someone through first to make sure the other end was in the right place...?

They were interrupted by the roar of the second vortex, and Balance sighed.

“Indeed. One moment--”

She spoke into her cell phone, and to Jason’s surprise one of the bats detached itself from the mass in the roof; Kralle backwinged to a halt in front of them, and nodded when appraised of the problem. He was sure he could find volunteers, and so it proved; he tilted his head back and called, the high pitched chattering reaching the flickering ears of the bachelor group above them. Some arguing and squeaking, and a brace of youngsters dropped to swirl overhead, diving and sporting before shooting full speed for the glowing roundels of the wormholes.

Jason cursed, using his own radio to appraise the other group leaders of the situation, word reaching Kai a split second before the scouts did. He ducked, eyes wide as the two youngsters shot over his head to vanish from sight.

The army held its breath, waiting for the reappearance of the pair, a word, a thought - anything to let them know that all their preparation hadn’t been in vain.

~*~

A shout from the communications centre brought Vega from her quarters at a run, leaving behind the wreckage of the sacrifice to the Dark she’d made to activate her own powers. A wood nymph, it had been; the freshest, brightest expression of Life that she could find, slaughtered and spread upon her altar to the Darkness, an offering to bring them luck and boost her energies.

“Report!” she roared, long legs eating up the distance as she left the stuttering Edward far behind her. One of the operatives that retained her own mind met her in the corridor, babbling about scouts and intrusions--

Vega grabbed the woman’s head and ripped the memory from her. Two winged figures, bursting out from nowhere into the centre of the great hall hollowed from the solid stone at the heart of the complex. One quick lap, then vanishing again at the point they’d come in; scouts, checking the placement of - whatever the invading army was using to travel here, at a guess. Vega dropped the woman, blood leaking from ears and nose, and charged away toward the huge storage chambers; behind her, the twitching corpse shuddered and curled, rising to its feet and blinking open eyes that were wet black from edge to edge.

Orders to initiate defence protocols, weapons broken from lockers, a confusion of avatars moving with smooth determination and humans running in panicked disarray. Noise levels rose, alarms and klaxons adding their mournful bray to the cold air, shivering now with fear as well as chill.

The air glowed and shook, twin circles of power making their presence felt in the great hall.

The army was coming. The war had begun.

~*~

The two scouts had burst from the vortices with a shriek, swooping across the heads of the army with a victory roll and a cry of triumph. The ends of the wormholes were in place, and the attack could commence. Kai hopped up onto a chair and yelled for attention, Jason assuring him that he would be heard by all present; he waved his arms, realised everyone was looking at him, and dried up.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and could have sworn he heard a tiny snicker in the back of his mind. _Hell of a time to freeze, Hansen,_ it said.

Irritation and fear shoved to the back of his mind, he took a deep breath, and said the first thing that came to mind.

“This started for me with a death.” His voice soared into the hot, dry spaces of the hangar, even the bats overhead stilling to listen to his words. “A light that got snuffed out. We’re here to teach the Dark that it can’t just wipe everything out without a fight. We’ll carry on shining whatever it does. So go in there - and for fuck’s sake, be careful!”

He jumped down, realising with a faint flush that you probably weren’t supposed to tell an army to be careful just before it went to war. Right or not, it seemed to have worked; all looked forward, waiting for the order to move. Alpha scanned the force, nodded with something approaching satisfaction at the vista of so many assembled to fight for the cause.

“Go,” he said, and the first wave began to flow past Kai. Jason dropped him a wink, thumping him on the arm then falling in with one of the squads; he carried an apparatus that looked like a flamethrower, although he’d assured Kai that it wasn’t. Memories of flamethrowers still made him shudder, and he didn’t care who was carrying them.

Henjo touched him on the shoulder.

“He’ll be OK.”

“I fucking hope so.”

The four waited, watching the groups move past them and into the wormhole, vanishing without a word or a cry into the pale gold glow. Hooves scratched through the sand, Arcadians of all shapes and sizes moving up to take their place for the second wave. Mabon, masked and armoured in leather, held out his hand to Kai.

“It would be an honour to carry you into battle on my back,” he said, scraping one hoof through the sand, muscular flanks shivering with anticipation. Three more of his force waited by his side, undoubtedly to offer the same for the other three.

Kai shrugged.

“Hell with it,” he sighed, “beats walking.”

Henjo gave him a leg up, and helped him steady himself while he arranged his gun and ammunition around himself. It was like sitting on a table, the centaur’s back was so broad; Dirk was mounted on a pretty black mare, who was advising him with a cheeky grin on the best place to put his hands when she had to make the jump through the wormhole, which was making him blush somewhat. Dan was astride an older bay stallion, gripping with his knees and eyeing the ground nervously, and Henjo used the chair to scramble aboard a tall brown colt, young but strong, with laughing eyes and four white socks on his equine feet. Shaking hands even as he assisted Henjo to his back he introduced himself as Kay; he flicked his tail, and patted Henjo’s thigh while he assured him that he was no weight at all, and see that strap there? Hang on tight!

“Second wave,” said Alpha’s voice, as drained of emotion as if he were a machine.

The Vespertillo dropped from the roof in a great scything wave of wings, swirling in perfect co-ordination to funnel through the portals. Some carried guns in their clawed feet, others just the additional steel tipping to their natural claws, but all bore the set, fierce expressions of true warriors as they streamed past the Arcadians with a thunderous roar of beaten air. Kai twisted in his seat, looking back across their force. A regiment of centaurs bearing firearms of varied size and weight, but all larger than a human could carry with ease; satyrs scowled, nymphs and dryads fidgeted under the unfamiliar mass of guns and swords and knives.

Far behind them, a shining glisten of white light revealed the presence of several angels, balanced by the sullen glow of the demons; between and behind them the last of the rag-tag force, humans and non, soldiers and those who were just here because it was the right thing to do.

He just had time to wonder if they would find Yoz, and Mabon began to move beneath him.

“Hold on,” warned the centaur, and picked up the pace until he was heading for the great, slow-spinning disc at a canter. One pace, another, then the massive body bunched between Kai’s thighs and the centaur leapt--

~*~

Air so cold that the breath froze in a shining cloud before the lips. No life warmth here, just the endless, frozen moment of death, stretched and extended to an eternal, timeless cold sigh.

Ice arching almost out of sight, the cathedral-like vault soaring overhead in a painted span of blues and purples, shafts of brilliant aqua hues reflecting from the frozen supports.

Thousands of bodies, drained of their life and power, suspended until they could be invaded by the essence of the Dark, forced to fight until their physical structures were destroyed. Row upon row, already black clad in preparation for the day the Dark would need them. Men, women. All ages, all sizes, all colours and creeds, no distinction made between them where they lay, their individual light and life torn from them to fuel the giant structure under which they waited.

Vega raised her arms, and called the Dark forth to begin its slither across the nervous tissue, blood gelled solid in veins loosening and beginning to hiss through systems again, hearts pumping, muscles warming.

And they began to move.

~*~

Accelerating toward the whirl of power that was going to fling them rather more than halfway around the planet, Dirk gripped the muscular body between his thighs, clutched the waist strap of his mount’s armour and tried to remember what the two main directives of this operation were. First, knock out whatever they were using to store the power from the stolen bodies. Second, reduce the number of those bodies until there was no army. Of course, any information that could be brought back to HQ to give the Order a chance to infiltrate and destroy the Illuminati would be good, but destruction was the main thrust of this attack.

In addition, the four of them had one more directive.

Find Yoz.

With a cry of triumph the mare took the last stride, bunched, and leaped straight for the centre of the portal.

~*~

It was chaos on the other side. Sound battered their ears, flashes of light in a million different colours, nostrils jammed full of the stink of death and cordite and blood. Sulphurous tendrils of dirty smoke wound around them as their mounts turned on landing, cantering out of the way of those that followed, weapons raised to destroy any that might be waiting.

Kai bounced from Mabon’s back almost as soon as the centaur slowed, giving him a thump on the arm for luck before turning to gather his own little force. Daniel had fallen from his mount, only the centaur’s quick reactions stopping him from landing on the floor in an untidy heap. He punched Dan on the shoulder with a grin, and sprang away to join his leader; Dirk’s mare balanced him beautifully, pivoting to a halt and twisting round to lend him a hand down. He clasped hands with her, looking up into her dark brown eyes and sighing.

“Be careful.”

She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine!” and with that she sprang away.

Henjo hadn’t been so lucky, and the three men swore as they ran to drag him out from under his fallen mount. The youngster had landed badly when he emerged from the portal, taking a few large, clumsy steps right into the line of fire of an enemy sniper. The bullet wound in his human chest was serious enough, but his fall had twisted and snapped one of his forelegs beyond repair. Henjo was trying to soothe the frightened colt, avoiding looking at the sickening mess of his front leg; the bone had punched through the skin, shattered ends tearing their way to the surface.

“Henjo,” said Kai, “we--”

“I can’t leave him!”

More of their force were arriving all the time, the fighting getting heavier this close to the entrance point. The colt struggled to roll to his chest, the smashed leg flapping uselessly, twisting and grinding every time he moved.

“Henjo, go,” he said, taking his hand and holding it tight. “I have my gun. I can fight from here until they come for me.”

“Kay, I can’t. They’ll kill you.”

This time the colt’s voice was fierce. “Go! There’s nothing can be done for me now!”

Henjo hugged the youngster around the neck, and let Kai drag him away without another word. Dan and Dirk followed them, a last nod to Kay where he lay to defend the transport portal.

They plunged into the battle, and he was lost to sight.

~*~

Rank upon rank of the dark forces flowed past Vega from her vantage point. Each of the enormous caverns - twelve altogether, although only ten had been filled - had been emptied of their contents; they marched past the sorceress, eyes blank with the wet blackness of the force that animated them. The Dark had started taking others, too; she’d seen some of the technicians fall with a cry, convulsing on the icy floor then rising to join the others, no expression, no personality - nothing left but the endless Dark.

She wondered how long it would take the Dark to decide that she was no longer of any use, and fill her with the same searing nothingness that animated the rank upon rank of dead soldiers.

Well, first she had a job to do. Hurrying to one of the high points of the vast central hall she concentrated, calling forth the black, bloodsucking mist that had served her so well in the past. One of the bats swung up toward her, reaching its claws forward to rip at her face; she swept a tendril of the mist at it, and smiled when the creature fell shrieking into the heaving, swirling battle below.

This was a good vantage point, she decided, crouching to lean out over the edge of the platform. Close to the roof, out of sight of almost all that fought--

A bullet pinged from the ice near her head, and she cursed. Perhaps not, then.

Ducking the fire directed at her, she ran back down the arching grey corridor. Perhaps she could find a way to direct the fighting from her quarters--

~*~

Sticking close to the walls Kai and his force moved out, shooting at anything wearing black that attempted to menace them. All four were already wide-eyed with the horrors they’d witnessed; Dark soldiers fighting on with no limbs, insides torn away and swinging, heads smashed beyond repair. Friends and allies lying in crumpled heaps, ripped to pieces and left like so many broken toys.

Something familiar and horrible shot out of a side corridor, and turned to spot them. Henjo yelled, bringing his rifle up, but Kai stopped him with a word.

“No good,” he said, through gritted teeth, “that won’t help.”

The vapour drew itself up, hundreds of sharp-toothed little mouths snapping and grinning at the sight of so much prey. It began to circle them, and they could hear something coming from it that sounded like laughter. Kai hissed, raised his hand; perhaps he could summon up enough of a push to drive it off.

A voice shouted for them to duck, and Dan grabbed Henjo and Kai, yanking them to the floor with him. Jason, bloodstained and wild, blonde hair flying where it had escaped its band and glasses askew leveled the wand of his weapon and fired. From the end of it sprayed not flames, as Kai had feared, but the same silvery grey powder he’d sprinkled over him when he was fighting with Yoz in the refectory, so long ago. The cloud swirled in confusion, pulling itself in and folding in coils to try and rid its vaporous body of the clinging, sparkling powder. Another long spray coated more of the monster, now roiling in confusion and rubbing along the floor in an attempt to clear its surface.

Flinging a hand forward Jason barked a word, and with a whoosh the powder ignited. The cloud shrieked, thrashing itself to pieces against floor and walls, the clinging powder burning its way to its heart and destroying it utterly.

The wail faded, and for a moment the five men just panted, getting their breath back and wondering if there was any more of the stuff to jump out at them.

“Thanks,” wheezed Kai from under Dan.

“No problem,” the alchemist replied, “but you’ve got to hurry. We’re getting cut to pieces in here - we can’t find the centre of the damn place. Henjo?”

“Me?”

“We need you to do your,” and Jason wiggled his fingers, “building-fu, or whatever it is you do. Get the information from the stone.”

“But I--”

“Or we’re all dead.”

“Oh.”

Kai shot an elbow into his side. “And ask it where Yoz is.”

Grumbling, Henjo made his way to where the stone could be seen projecting from its clinging coat of ice. He spread his fingers across it, closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind to the soul of the great, ancient fortress.

~*~

Eero thought he was going to be sick.

He’d never seen anything like it. Yes, he’d expected there to be casualties. Yes, he’d known that they would be bad.

No, he hadn’t realised just how horrible it would be.

He worked alongside the others that had remained behind, the heat of the vast hangar cooled by blasts of icy air that swept through the portals whenever another body came back through. Some stumbled in under their own power, some were carried; the centaurs had leaped through many times, each time bearing more sorely wounded on their backs and showing worse burns, scores and other injuries on their once-glossy hides.

Then they stopped coming, and for a while it was walking wounded only. Some were patched up and sent back, others waved further back or sent on to the various Houses for more intense medical care.

And some just died.

Basti had burst through, accompanied by Polaris, between them bearing the body of Kralle. They had let him down, Eero running to them to see what could be done. The bat was crouched by his friend’s side, stroking his face with his thumb claw, speaking to him quietly, comforting him as he bled his life out on the sand. Polaris caught Eero’s arm, drew him back with a shake of her head.

“They are brothers,” she said, “and Kralle...Kralle goes before us into the abyss. There is nothing you can do.”

They waited, Eero unconsciously wrapping his arm around the female bat’s shoulders while they waited for Basti. Eventually Kralle’s chest lifted, heaved once, and he sagged back to the ground with a sigh. Basti shuddered, and bowed his head.

“It is over,” she said, and with a sad smile stepped away from Eero and took off, showering him with sand. Basti looked up, grief stricken, and nodded to Eero.

“Take care of him,” he said, and then he too was aloft. Both bats circled the area once, dipping their wings in salute to their fallen brother, then darted away through the portal they’d come in through.

Looking down at the body, Eero sighed. He looked so - small. The bats were so alive, so filled with energy that it was easy to forget how diminutive their physical forms were.

Scooping him up he made his way to the back of the hangar, placing Kralle alongside so many of the rest of his brethren that had got this far and then lost the fight. Human, non-human. It didn’t matter; here they were all brothers and sisters in the long, quiet restfulness of death. The line of shrouded forms was growing ever longer, and they’d soon be running out of room.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up into Moira’s weary face; she’d been keeping him company, helping him fetch and carry and talking to him whenever it looked as though the horror was becoming too much. He smiled up into her sad expression, and gripped her hand tightly; this was bad enough, but they both dreaded the next delivery, the next arrival, the next piece of news.

Because the next body might be someone they loved.

~*~

Ancient. Heavy.

It had seen so very much. So much death, and destruction; when the first stones were laid, the blood of a sacrifice had been spilled across them. Her eyes still stared, vacant in death, at whoever delved into the memory of stone to look.

Henjo couldn’t even tell what race she was, but the wide-open eyes - green, he saw, a bright fresh green, inhuman but innocent - watched him as he tried to find out what he needed from the awareness that now watched him back. So far, whenever he’d connected with a building, a soul of stone and time, it had welcomed him.

This one did not.

It watched him with something approaching amusement while he tried to gather information, explore the extent of its body, find out where all the tunnels went and what its inner secrets were.

 _Henjo, hurry,_ said someone, far away. He gritted his teeth and tried harder.

And now it fought back, trying to block him, to stop him from seeing its innermost secrets, laying bare its thoughts. _You won’t win,_ he thought. _I know what I’m doing and you - won’t - win!_

Just like that, he was through. The consciousness retreated, sullen, and he was able to get a layout in his head; there was the centre, the throbbing heart of the place, where the power was gathered and distributed. The place where so many had poured their lives before being shuttled away into one of the vaulted ice caverns to await their day of awakening - which was now.

 _Yoz, Yoz...show me Yoz!_ he demanded, and with all the speed of a glacier it gave in, grumbling at him like a distant thunderstorm. If the complex were a dog, it would be growling - but he had neither the time nor the inclination to heed the warning. So busy was he, in fact, that he missed the attack when it came, and so had no way of defending against it.

~*~

Crouched beside Henjo, watching for outside attack, they all jumped when he started to scream. Kai grabbed him, trying to pull his hands free from the rock; twin ropes of ice had sprung from the rock, tightening around his wrists and holding him fast. No matter how much he tugged - and Henjo thrashed, eyes squeezed shut as the monstrous intelligence lashed through his mind - he couldn’t get him free. Jason swore, wide eyed while he tried to watch what was going on and defend against attack, Dan stood back and tried to think of something - but Dirk slung his gun behind him, laid his hands over Henjo’s, and pushed his mind out.

The maelstrom caught him and pulled him in, and in a heartbeat he was able to touch Henjo’s mind where the complex of stone was trying to drive him mad.

 _Dirk? Dirk! Help!_

Reaching deep, Dirk touched the part of his mind where the demon had crouched a year ago. Despite Yoz erasing most of the memories connected with its stay he could still feel it, remember the shape and the texture of the demon’s mind, the implacable evil and the awesome strength. He touched it, grabbed it, and threw that impression at the mind battering at his friend.

The entire complex shuddered, rocks falling from the roof, floors swaying and bucking tossing friend and foe alike from their feet.

It gave in with a growl, sinking back down into its semi-coma, allowing both human minds - now linked - to see the heart of its power and the place where their Magus had last been seen.

 _I think we’ve got enough,_ said Dirk dryly, and with a peculiar mental twist and shake they emerged from the rock and returned to their own bodies. For a moment, a split second, they remained linked; looking out through each other’s eyes, they took a look at themselves from the outside before the separation was complete and they were alone in their own heads once more.

“Do I really look like that?” asked Dirk, and Kai laughed.

~*~

They decided to split up, Kai and Henjo to find the power source and destroy it, Dirk and Dan to attempt to find their Magus.

Jason shook his head. “Are you sure? What if you see more of that smoke--”

Gripping his shoulder, Kai was firm. “You’re needed down here - and we’re not. We can do this, OK?”

The Englishman grinned. “Rockstars. What do you know? Fine - good luck!”

And with that he left at a run, heading back to rejoin the group he’d darted away from when he’d spied they were in trouble. Henjo peered down the corridor the mist had jumped them from.

“This way,” he said.

“You OK?” Kai asked Dirk, who bit his lip and nodded.

“See you later then,” he said with a grin, and vanished with Henjo into the gloom of the tunnel.

~*~

Using the directions he’d seen in Henjo’s mind, Dirk led the long run up the corridors in search of where they thought Yoz might be. With the battle spreading out they came across knots of fighting, stumbling once across a squad of the Dark avatars and having to duck down a side corridor to avoid them; Dan was all for just throwing a grenade, but Dirk persuaded him to wait.

“We can get them all in one hit,” he whispered, but Dirk shot an elbow into his side and glared at him.

“And if we don’t? There’s too many and they’d kill us, so shut up and wait.”

Grumbling, Dan subsided. They lurked down the corridor - more dimly lit than the rest, the doors braced and barred - until the measured pacing of the squad faded into the background sounds of distant battle. About to move on, Dan paused, cocking his head; there were sounds coming from behind them, muffled moans and groans drifting out of the gloom.

“Come on, we’ve--”

“Wait. What’s behind these doors?”

Dan moved deeper, putting an ear to each door until he found one that he could hear noises behind.

“Dan!”

He put a finger to his lips, turned the handle, and pulled the door open a crack.

~*~

“Is this it?” hissed Kai, peering around the corner.

“Should be,” whispered Henjo. “Now we just get to see if it’s guarded.”

“So? We’re armed, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but they might be too.”

Giving a snort to hide his fear, Kai crept around the corner and sidled up to the doorway they’d been watching. The air was filled with a low, steady thrum, almost dancing with the subsonic vibrations that rolled through them and coiled along the passageways and through the walls. The corridor, which had been growing steadily darker as they approached this point, was being lit by the soft golden glow spilling from the doorway; the sound seemed to be coming from the same place as the light, and they crept forward until they could see through the arch that marked the threshold.

No guards. No attendants.

Kai let his breath out in a hiss, hurrying forward to examine the enormous round plinth in the centre of the room. Made of stone, it had a ledge running around the top, marked with symbols he couldn’t read, and in the centre a huge sphere made of--

“Don’t touch it!” yelped Henjo, when Kai stretched his hand out. He snatched it back, and looked guilty.

“Sorry.”

The two men searched the rest of the room, but it was empty; nothing at all, no switches, no buttons - nothing. Except the stone plinth with the writing, and the vast, glowing golden sphere in the centre of it.

“This must be it, then,” said Kai, eyeing it. “Destroy it, and this ends.”

“What, just shoot it?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

Henjo rolled his eyes. “If it’s powering this place and you shoot it, it’ll - oh, I don’t know - blow up and take us with it?”

“Oh. Good point. Grenade?”

Hissing through his teeth, Henjo tried to think of a better way.

He couldn’t.

“If it’s all we’ve got.”

Kai nudged him with a grin. “Hey, you want to live forever?”

“Actually? Yeah.”

Rummaging through their packs, they decided that three of the grenades Jason had equipped them with earlier should do the trick. Heads bent close, they tried to figure out the best way of placing them to ensure the destruction of the power supply.

“Wonder why this place isn’t guarded?” mused Henjo aloud, not expecting an answer.

“Because,” said a sardonic voice from the doorway, “it guards itself.”

They both looked up, paling when they found themselves looking down the barrel of a very large gun indeed, carried by a woman so tall her head almost brushed the top of the archway.

“Guns and bombs on the floor, boys. Over there, that’s the way.”

“So,” asked Kai, moving as slowly as he could, stalling for time, “who are you, then?”

The woman smiled.

“As far as you’re concerned,” she said, “I’m Death.”

~*~

There must be hundreds of them, Dirk thought, leaning his back on the cool grey wall and closing his eyes. Prisoners, chained to the walls, tortured and beaten and far, far worse. And what could they do? They’d unchained the ones they could, resorting to putting bullets through anchor points more than once; but the ones that couldn’t walk, with broken legs or broken minds, wasted through starvation or reduced to drooling madness...what to do with them?

Nothing, was the answer. Break their chains and leave them for the Dark. At least they’d given them a chance to defend themselves.

Dan emerged from the latest cell, and slid down the wall to sit at Dirk’s feet. He laid his gun aside, put his face in his hands, and gave in to the shakes; too grief stricken and horrified to weep, he just curled up in a ball and let the awfulness of what they’d witnessed roll over him. Dirk nudged him with his knee.

“We ought to move.”

Dan sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Two more doors,” he croaked. “Just two more on this level. Then we go.”

Rolling his eyes - if they hadn’t been of much help to the ones they’d found so far he failed to see how they could help any more - he gave Dan a hand up, covering him with his shotgun as he poked his head into the next cell. Nothing in this one, and Dirk just hoped against hope that the next one would be empty too.

The moan Dan gave let him know they hadn’t been so lucky.

“It’s a centaur,” he said, “messed up bad. Real bad--”

“Shit,” muttered Dirk, and a voice reached out to them from the darkness of the cell.

“Dirk?” it said, and he froze, wide eyed. “Please. Let it be. Or am I dreaming again...?”

Punching Dan on the arm and making him promise to shoot the first thing that moved down the corridor, Dirk made his way into the cell. Clammy and cold it stank of rot, excrement, urine and decomposed straw; chains clinked as the wasted form of the centaur attempted to sit up, weaving his head to try and home in on the direction of movement.

“Here, I’m here,” murmured Dirk, kneeling beside the creature and helping him roll to his chest.

“It is you,” breathed the centaur, and Dirk hissed in a breath when he recognised the sad, wasted form.

“Hephaestus?”

He nodded, and Dirk just stared at him. Bold grey coat darkened with filth, broad hooves cracked and split, great gouges taken out of his skin, lash marks and burns and bruises and--

And he was blind. The skin around his eye sockets was puffy and red, some sort of infection having set in to the untreated wound, rivulets of pus making their way down his cheeks like rancid tears as he tried to blink. Dirk swore, wrapped his arms around the broad - if rather bony, now - shoulders, and tried to think of something to do. Hephaestus, to his absolute shock, smiled at him.

“You are so...human. Thinking how to get me out, yes?”

“We’ll think of something,” he said between his teeth.

Hephaestus rested his head on Dirk’s shoulder and sighed, a great gust of regret. “No, you won’t. I’m finished, I’m afraid, finished and done but still breathing.”

“But--”

One long fingered hand grasped his knee, and the suffering centaur spoke gently. “There is only one thing left to do, my friend.”

The words hung in the cold air, and Dirk shook his head. “No, there must be something....”

“There is. You can spare me a bullet, can you not?”

The sheer calm with which he said it took his breath away. He didn’t want to do this. He couldn’t do it. But then, how could he walk away and leave him here, like this? He couldn’t stand - and even if he could, he was blind. Leave him to stumble around until he was killed, torn apart, or taken by the Dark and used against his friends?

“Please,” he said, and Dirk gave in.

~*~

The shot made Dan leap almost out of his skin.

“The fuck?” he yelped, grabbing Dirk by the shoulder and shaking him, yanking him round to look into his face. He just had time to glimpse tears, then Dirk knocked his hand away and crossed to the other side of the corridor, wrapping his arms around himself and lowering his head. Shaking, fighting back the flood of tears that burned the back of his throat he felt Dan’s hand grip his shoulder, far more gently this time.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“S’ok,” he sniffed, swiping at his eyes, “he wanted it. Best thing.”

“I know. I know.”

They stood in silence for a minute, Dirk getting himself under control again. When he spoke, his voice was steadier, and in his eyes only a hint of the grief that would, no doubt, come back to haunt him later.

“Come on. We’re nearly there.”

~*~

Vega waved her gun at the two men, and smiled at them. “Kai Hansen and Henjo Richter, I believe?” she said, making sure that she stood close enough to them that they could be properly intimidated by her height. Kai, she’d noticed, had narrowed his eyes when he realised how tall she was; he undoubtedly suffered from the same hang ups that most short men did - a loathing of very long women.

That just made this so very much sweeter, of course.

“You got us,” said Henjo, his eyes very firmly fixed south of her face.

She felt a slow burn beginning deep in her guts. Men. All the same. About to die? Well never mind, let’s stare at the first pair of tits that wanders by.

She wanted to shoot him right then and there, but no--

“Did it never occur to you,” she snapped, “that your attempt to delve into the Mind of Stone would set off alarms? That you would be watched, and followed?”

He looked up into the green eyes, snapping with angry fire, and blushed. “Um. No.”

She snorted. “Then you’re a fool.”

Kai cleared his throat, still frowning at her. She straightened her spine, glared down her nose at him, and the frown deepened.

“What are you going to do with us? Shoot us, or talk us to death?”

“All the best villains like to gloat,” Henjo reminded him with a nudge, and he fought down a snicker. Vega felt the desire to just shoot them both immediately notch a little higher.

“I am going to drain you both into the centre there. And then your bodies will be given to the Dark to use as soldiers. And then I am going to go and kill the rest of your pathetic army, send my own army through your portal to slaughter your friends and destroy your base, and then we are going to destroy the world. Any more questions?”

“Just the one,” Kai snapped. “Where’s Yoz?”

Vega let herself laugh, a light, happy sound. “Ah, she’s dead.”

She enjoyed watching the words sink in to their minds. The flinch and the way the redhead turned away, the taller man touching his arm in a kind of horrified sympathy - ah, yes. Almost made not shooting them on the spot worth it. Almost.

“She can’t be,” said Henjo.

“Oh, but she is. I gave her to the Dark - so there is nothing left. Body and soul, everything that there ever was that made up the witch is gone, destroyed, no more. And in just a few moments, you’ll be joining her,” and Vega laughed, “in oblivion. Now you,” she smiled, waving her gun at Henjo, “put your hands on the centre.”

He moved forward, swaying the first pace, the muzzle of the gun tracking away from Kai to follow him. Seeing an opportunity, Kai leapt - only to find an invisible power flinging him back, pinning him against the wall with such force he saw stars. She snorted.

“Stupid man,” she snapped. “There’s more than one woman can use magic, you know.”

Blinking the tears from his eyes, Kai watched Henjo approach the glowing sphere, and place both palms on it at the sorceress’ command. He hissed, struggled, but there was no escaping whatever had him pinned. He met Henjo’s gaze, and felt his heart fall to the bottom of his boots; they’d failed. They were going to die, and they’d _failed._

“Begin,” said Vega quietly, and Henjo screamed.

~*~

If there was one thing Dan and Dirk hadn’t been expecting to find anywhere in this nightmare monochrome maze it was the opulence they stepped into when they reached the sorceress’ quarters. They paused on the threshold, looking in awe at the drapes and mirrors, the carved wood and the steel and glass of the elegant, expensive furniture.

“Well fuck me,” said Dan, sidling in to the room.

“Now?” said Dirk with a smile, snorting when he received the flip of a finger in reply.

They moved through the rooms, peering behind thick velvet drapes, running their fingers over the walls to search for panels. Nothing, everything coming up blank; Dirk whirled when he heard a crunching sound, sighing the release of tension when he saw it was just Dan, standing in a puddle of smashed mirror glass.

“Seven year’s bad luck for someone,” he grumbled, crunching his way out of the patch.

“And that someone would be you,” stammered a voice. Both men turned, swinging their guns up, and saw a small man holding a rifle on them. Although he twitched and shook, the muzzle of the gun remained steady; if he decided to pull the trigger, Dirk would be looking for a new head.

A trickle of sweat began to roll down his spine. He honestly hadn’t realised until right now just how horrible it was to be looking down the wrong end of the barrel of a gun - especially when the person on the _right_ end was fully capable of killing you without a second thought. Or a first one, from the madness in the little man’s cloudy eyes.

“Drop the guns,” he snapped, and with a sideways glance at Dan Dirk did so. A muted clatter a heartbeat later let him know that Dan had done the same, dropping his weapon to the thick carpet with a grumble.

“Step over here - slowly,” the little man continued, beckoning them both forward. He backed up to an archway, fumbling one hand under another of the huge, soft velvet drapes; a swift movement, and they fell away to reveal a tall, swirling column of absolute blackness. It seethed and bubbled, turning on its axis and seeming to watch them without eyes. Dirk found his gaze falling into the centre of it, his surroundings beginning to fade out as the Dark claimed his whole attention for itself. Even the demon hadn’t been this evil, and he was all of a sudden very afraid indeed.

The touch of Dan’s hand on his arm snapped his attention away, and he blinked and dropped his eyes. That had been close.

“Witness your end,” frothed the little man, eyes wide but unseeing, “the Darkness of my mistress. It is the end of the world, and you--”

He ranted on, but Dirk’s attention had gone back to the whirling column behind him. It was heaving, developing lumps and moving patches of light, flashes through the infinite darkness of its body. It looked as though--

“Don’t try that with me!” screeched the little man, “I know what’s behind me! You won’t fool me that way!”

The Dark was failing, being torn apart from the inside. It developed a huge gouge, long rips that bled light, tears that shredded it until the fabric of nothingness dissolved under the onslaught of whatever was fighting its way free. Dan clutched Dirk’s arm, trembling. Something was coming out of the whirling, dying Dark, and they couldn’t quite see what it was--

“There is nothing there! You cannot--”

That was when Yoz hit him with a chair.

~*~

When Edward woke up he was hog tied, and the enemy Magus was smoking a cigarette and watching him from her cross-legged perch on his mistress’ bed.

“Blasphemy,” he moaned, and she laughed.

“I dunno, maybe somewhere it is. Me now, I calls it poetic justice. Righto then boys, we off?”

Daniel reappeared, armed to the teeth once more. He came up to the bed, and waved the muzzle of his own gun in Edward’s face.

“Not very nice, is it?” he snapped as the little man moaned and rolled his eyes. Yoz snickered, but Dirk appeared and gave him a thump on the arm.

“Stop that,” he sighed. “Yoz, I don’t get it. Why aren’t you dead?”

“You are dead,” moaned Edward, “dead and more than dead and come back to haunt me....”

“Shut up Edward,” she said, tapping her cigarette ash into his mouth and making him squeak, “I should be but I’m not. It tried to kill me - you better believe it tried. But other than shredding my outfit a bit--” she was barefoot, leather jeans looking rather chewed, jacket gone and shirt just about covering the essentials, “--it couldn’t. And that’s all I’m saying.”

Looking into the mismatched stare Dirk had to drop his gaze. There was far more to it than that, he was sure; but she didn’t want to detail the suffering and he didn’t want to know. She shook her head, and slid to the edge of the bed.

“Time to go. Let’s be off and--”

She hit the floor with a bump, knees giving way and dropping her on her face. Dan hurried to her side, picking her up, then - when it became obvious she couldn’t stand unaided - scooping her into his arms. She shot them both a rather sheepish smile.

“Um. I’m a bit more tired than I thought. Quite takes it out of you, preserving your soul against ultimate Darkness....”

Chuckling at the understatement, Dirk led the way out of the suite.

~*~

Hurrying along the maze of grey corridors, dodging the occasional patrol or small skirmish, they began to hear screaming. Dan paused, breathing hard, Dirk whipping his head back and forth as he tried to look in all directions at once.

“I’m never gonna get used to that,” Dan gasped, and Yoz fidgeted in his arms.

“I should hope not,” she said, “because that’s Henjo.”

~*~

They gave up on subtlety. The three of them raced along the corridors, relying on speed, surprise and Dirk’s gun to get them through - and it worked. They only came across one small squad of Dark avatars, and between spraying bullets and shoulder charging them out of the way they got through unscathed, although Dan was beginning to look more than a little wide eyed with incipient panic. Reaching the doorway that the howling was coming from - although it was getting weaker now - they hesitated outside, both men looking to the exhausted Mage for direction. She bit her lip and scowled.

“Put me down.”

“But you’re--”

“Now!”

Straightening herself, yanking what was left of her shirt down Yoz wobbled into the archway and leveled her finger at the back of the tall sorceress, who was watching Henjo writhe and scream against the sphere with a look of extreme pleasure on her face.

“Thrice bound are you for _I know your name,_ Ninhursag I name you and you shall do my bidding!”

Vega straightened, turned, hands opening to drop the gun. Eyes wide, she fell to her knees; Kai ran to Henjo, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him away from the dread machine that was draining him. His hands came away from the sphere, tendrils of golden light following them, licking at his palms as though searching out the last of his energies. Kai staggered back, and they fell in a heap on the floor.

“No,” said the sorceress, “you can’t. You can’t!”

“Too fucking late,” snapped Yoz, “I just did. Dirk, Dan, watch the door. Anything moves, shoot the fucker. And you,” she said, taking the last slow pace that brought her level with the other woman, “shut up and listen.”

She began to speak, her voice level and steady, her own mismatched gaze boring into the startled green of the other woman. She repeated her true name, bound her to obey orders from Yoz and Yoz alone, directing her to take no further part in the operation.

“And now that’s done,” Yoz grinned, “show me how it works.”

Vega groaned, trying to resist; all Yoz had to do was slap her on the cheek, hard, and the deep green eyes snapped open in shock. Placing her palms either side of her face, Yoz frowned in concentration; Vega began to squirm, then to moan, and finally to cry miserably, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched by her side.

Kai watched, white faced.

“What are you _doing_ to her?”

Yoz let go, and staggered to the stone plinth. “Finding out how this works. How’s Henjo?” she asked, fingers caressing the stone carved sigils, smiling when the sphere in the centre began to pulse, the clear gold sinking to a sullen, throbbing yellow.

“He’s fine,” replied Henjo, getting to his feet. Yoz shot him a sideways glance and snorted.

“Good job you told me that, ‘cause you look like shit, mate,” she said with a snort. “Right, put your hand on that symbol...there.”

She pointed it out to him, and he eyed her for a moment before doing as he was told, leaning heavily on the hand to hold himself up. Yoz grinned, tapped several more of the symbols on her side and barked out a single word, one syllable; the glowering sphere darkened, then a spot of brightness wormed its way over to where Henjo leaned and made a connection. He straightened his spine, hissing between his teeth as he felt the stolen power begin to flow back into him. Yoz beckoned Kai over, bade him put his hand on another symbol, gave him a blast as well.

“Let’s get you boys back up to speed and we’ll see what we can do about blowing this place to Hell, shall we?” she said with a grin.

~*~

Kai paced the room, trying not to swear. Time was ticking away, and still Yoz tapped and swore at the plinth, no closer to a solution than when she’d arrived.

“Fuck! Henjo,” she snapped, “come over here. I can’t get it to talk to me - maybe you’ll have more luck.”

He unwound himself from where he’d sat down in a corner, head between his knees, hoping that this was all just a horrible nightmare that he was going to wake up from. He paced across to the Magus, looking at the array of symbols with dismay.

“It didn’t want to talk to me the first time. And I wouldn’t know where to start--”

“Never mind that. And here,” she said, taking his hand and placing it on the nearest carved image, “start with that one. Just...do whatever it is you do with stone.”

“What are you going to do with me?” asked a voice from behind her, and Yoz turned. She’d actually forgotten about Vega - they all had - and the sorceress was still on her knees where they’d left her. Head down, her fall of red hair hid her face; her hands were still clenched into fists in her lap, blood squeezing from between her knuckles showing where her nails had bitten into her palms.

“You. Good question. Kai?”

He shrugged.

“I could kill you,” said Yoz, tone flat.

Vega sighed, a soft sound of regret. “One thing,” she said, turning her face to eye the Magus from between the strands of her hair, “one thing before you do. How did you know my name?”

Yoz leaned back against the plinth, folded her arms and shrugged. “The Dark let it slip while I was fighting it. It tried all sorts of things to make me give in, and when it started showing me stuff about the Annunaki I began to pay attention - because I remember you saying that’s what you thought you were.”

“I am.”

“Are you fuck. They were a race that stopped off here before mankind had even thought of coming down from the trees - they came, they stayed a bit, they buggered off again. End of story.”

Her lip began to tremble.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. No tears, please. Dirk, give me your gun.”

He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to shoot her.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“She’s just...sitting there!”

Yoz growled. “If I don’t kill her she’ll find a way to escape. And then she’ll come after me. Or maybe she’ll come after you - you want that?”

Kai snorted. “At least she’d be easy to spot.”

“That’s not helpful, Kai. Dirk, give me the bloody gun.”

“No.”

“Fine! Fine! Have it your way! Ninhursag, hear me. You will return to your quarters and you will not emerge until this operation is over and all surviving Rosicrucian forces have escaped. And then - if you survive - you are bound never to go within a mile of any of the men here present for the rest of your life, however long or short that may be. Do you hear and obey?”

The sorceress ground her teeth, but got to her knees before unwinding to her full height. “I hear and obey.”

“Go on then, fuck off.”

They watched her leave. Kai nudged Yoz with his elbow.

“You didn’t say anything about her not coming after you.”

“That, mate,” she said with a wolfish grin, “is because if she tries it I really am going to kill her. And spread her bits all over the planet. And enjoy doing it. A lot. Now--”

They were interrupted by a happy yelp from the console. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

Henjo was grinning, and before him hovered a three dimensional diagram of the entire base. Scattered throughout it were brighter points, lights that glittered like stars, shining threads running from them to the darker smudges that were the Dark forces. Grey points indicated the attacking forces - and it wasn’t too hard to see that they were being overwhelmed. Yoz circled the diagram, eyes narrowed.

“Henjo, can you block the flow to those nodes there?” she asked, pointing at the glittering balls of light. He nibbled on his lip, long fingers dancing across the stone symbols before him.

“Done.”

As they watched, the individual black specks that represented the avatars began to wink out.

~*~

Basti crouched on an outcrop of ice, and hissed at the forces advancing on him. Wounded and unable to fly, he would nevertheless fight until they tore him to pieces; he was ready to meet his end, had fought with courage and outlived so terribly many of his peers--

A human voice next to him cursed, curling the edges of his snarl into a smile.

“Hell of a time to run out of ammo,” it muttered, and the bat spared a glance down at the man beside him, tapping the gauge on the side of his powder-thrower and grimacing.

“Friend Jason,” he said, lashing his tail, “we shall take many of them with us into the Dark, never fear!”

The alchemist gave a tired, but wicked grin. “Ah, I’m not worried about _that,_ mate. I just don’t want to get my hands dirty, you know what I mean?”

Basti laughed before turning to face the enemy again, arching his back and snarling at the avatars. One more pace and they’d be on them--

They stopped.

Basti, Jason and the half dozen others that had been backed into the icy corner waited, holding their breath. Pausing to regroup? Waiting for reinforcements?

No.

Dying, apparently.

They stared at the crumpled heaps of bodies for a few moments before Jason inched out, prodding one of them with the toe of his boot. Nothing. He prodded a bit harder. Still nothing.

He walked around the outcrop, and stared out into the great hall. Everywhere the avatars were falling, some few still crawling toward their targets, but as he watched even they wavered and fell. The guns high on the walls had fallen silent, and nobody was shooting at anybody. Turning back to Basti he shrugged, spreading his hands - and his radio, that he’d thought long dead, crackled to life.

“Anybody still out there?”

 _“Yoz?”_

“Jason! You’re alive, good. Move ‘em out, mate - take everybody home. We’re coming out and we’re bringing the place down behind us, so don’t hang about, there’s a good chap.”

The radio went dead. Jason blinked at the little group of tired, battle-weary people huddled under the ice, and shrugged. “You heard the lady. Let’s go home.”

~*~

Eero, Moira and the rest of the triage teams looked up in alarm as the portals began to hum. Carl dashed between the two heaps of machinery running them, muttering under his breath. Moira ran across to him, grabbing his arm and giving him a little shake to get his attention.

“What’s happening?”

He blinked at her, seeming to take a very long moment to realise who she was and that he was, in fact, supposed to tell her what she’d just asked.

“Something big. Coming through--”

There was no time to grab weapons, no time to defend themselves. All they could do was watch as figures began to flow through the portals, some staggering, some running, all looking absolutely exhausted - and all familiar. Eero felt something inside him lurch at the realisation that it wasn’t a retreat, it wasn’t an attack - they were coming home. He had no idea what had happened over there, but they were all coming home. Moira struggled through the arriving masses, grabbed his arm and dragged him to wait between the two great, glowing circles.

Holding hands, they waited for their loved ones together.

~*~

Vega returned to her quarters, and sank down in a chair with a deep sigh. They were still running, she could feel that, and so she couldn’t do a damn thing to help herself until they were all gone. She could feel the fury of the Dark, too, boiling away somewhere in the back of her mind. Cut off from its power source it was crippled, but not completely helpless; once it had stopped screaming it was going to come looking for revenge. And she would be the only one left here for it to find.

Yoz wouldn’t have to kill her.

“Mistress?” whimpered a voice from the bed, and she turned her head to eye the pathetic form, hog tied and abandoned. Edward.

Ideas began to tick through her brain. She could maybe manage one jump. Just one. All she would need would be the power from one person--

She moved to the bed, untied her servant and allowed him to crawl to her, resting his head in her lap and crying for joy. Smoothing long fingers through his thin hair she smiled, hushing his bleating, soothing him with her voice.

“Edward,” she said, “what would you give for me?”

His weak, cloudy eyes opened and fixed on her face with the ultimate love of the total fanatic.

“Anything, mistress. Everything.”

“Oh good,” she replied, and smiled.

~*~

“Henjo,” heaved Yoz as the five of them rounded a corner and fled toward the main hall, “did you have to pull it down this fast?”

He skidded around a corner, putting on another burst of speed as a wall collapsed right at their heels.

“I’m sorry!” he yelped between whooping gasps for breath, “I just told it _what_ to do, not how fast!”

“ _Next_ time,” she replied, pausing to try and catch her breath, “remember that bit. Fuck!”

The complex dropped another section of roof close behind them, and they took off down the corridor again.

Once he’d got the hang of how to use the Mind of Stone, Henjo had been away. Not only had he turned off the power to the Dark’s avatars and jammed all their defence systems, he’d been able to route their computers through to a Rosicrucian outpost in Patagonia and arrange a data dump of everything in their memory. Before switching them off for good, killing the planet-wide system that the Illuminati had relied on for all their information. That action alone would have ensured that the Brotherhood was made, effectively, powerless for another generation or two, but then he’d got busy within the structural sections of the Mind and found out how to destroy the base itself.

Starting from the very furthest reaches of its sprawling tendrils of corridors the roof would come down, the spaces filling themselves with rubble and vanishing as though they’d never been. The process would continue until the final gap - the great hall at the geographical heart of the complex - fell in on itself, obliterating the ancient, evil stronghold once and for all. And once that had happened--

“You can do more?” asked Kai, astounded. Henjo had grinned.

\--any power left within the mind would feed back on itself and explode. And since they were right under a mountain and right on top of a small - but significant - fault line, then the entire place would end up becoming a volcano. It was, as Yoz said with a nasty smile, going to be one hell of a bang.

“One we’ll be out of, right?” Dan had asked, Henjo reassuring him airily that indeed, they’d be long gone before the final firework display.

They burst out into the main hall just in time to see the last stragglers making their weary way through the portals. Hurdling corpses, shouting for the last few to hurry they pelted across the massive floor, eyes fixed on their destination and never, ever taking the time to look back.

Until a voice called to them, not twenty feet from their destination. Henjo, hearing his name, skidded to a halt.

Kai and Dan were through the portals, Dirk a hair behind them. Yoz, bringing up the rear, yelled for Henjo to come on and _hurry_ , for fuck’s sake!

The voice called him again, and this time he managed to spot the source.

Polaris, bloodied and torn, lay collapsed in a crumpled heap beside a maimed and torn pile of enemy soldiers. Without another thought, without even pausing for breath he ran to her, dropping to his knees in the filth and blood to pull her into his arms.

“Tired--” she said, and lay her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he gasped, stumbling through the debris toward the portal. One had already shut down, Yoz yelling at the top of her lungs something about the other one fluctuating and come on, _hurry!_

Polaris whimpered, Henjo put on a last burst of speed--

And the roof fell in with a roar of triumph as it struck at its defiler one last time.

 _~TBC~_


	12. Trouble (Bonus Track)

_****_

Trouble

 

“And there comes a time,” whispered the voice from the darkness, “when the tale is told and the story finishes that the ones who have listened say - but what happened next? What happened to the ones we have lived with, ached for, laughed with and loved with and grieved over? What happened _after?_ ”

Streaked with pinks and shades of orange, the sunset reflected in the tranquil waters of the mountain lake, not so much as a cat’s-paw ripple disturbing the surface.

“The truth is that the story never truly ends. It rolls along, the vibrations of what has gone before sounding far into the future, colouring everything that happens and making the tapestry of the present all the richer for the faded paints of the past....”

~*~

Thump-squeak. Thump-squeak. Thump-squeak ah- _dammit!_ Crunch.

Henjo opened his eyes and frowned at the ceiling.

Clatter, bang. Squeak. Thump-thump-thump.

“Henjo! You’re awake. Good.”

Moving with a certain amount of caution - everything felt stiff, and what wasn’t stiff was sore as Hell - he propped himself up on his elbows, and frowned at the foot of his bed. There was Yoz, large as life and twice as scary, leaning on two crutches with her leg in plaster and a shit-eating grin covering her face.

“Yoz...?”

“You recognise me. Good. No brain damage then. Well. No _extra_ damage, anyway.”

She made her way round to the chair at his bedside, rubber-tipped crutches thump-squeaking across the elegant parquet flooring. That must have been what had woken him up, then; well, that and her cursing as she struggled to get through the heavy door, encumbered as she was with the sticks. She plonked herself into the chair, rested her crutches across her knee and laughed at his expression, softly.

“Damn, I’m glad you’re OK.”

Henjo let himself down with a sigh, drifting his eyes shut. “Am I?”

“So the medics said - cuts, bruises, exhaustion. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up; you’ve been asleep for eighteen hours, y’lazy bastard.”

He opened his eyes again, and stared at the ceiling. “Yoz,” and he flicked his tongue across dry lips, almost afraid of the answer, “what happened, at the end there?”

She shuffled in her chair. “What do you remember?”

“Hearing Polaris, picking her up... and then waking up here.”

“Hmm. Well. The roof fell in, I managed to block the worst of it long enough for you to scramble through the portal and just as I was about to pop through myself a bloody great rock fell on me and smashed my leg in. Kai hopped back, gave me a hand getting out from under it and through we came. That’s it.”

Henjo thought about this. It was an awfully bald statement; he’d be willing to bet that there’d been rather more to it than that--

“Telling lies again, Magus?” asked a familiar voice, and Henjo’s head shot up from the pillow.

“Polaris!”

The bat hobbled to his side and hopped up to sit on the bed, leaning in to give him a long, slow kiss of welcome. He cupped her face in his hands, smiling to see her looking so well; still rather battered and bruised, but the eyes were as bright as ever, and the grin just as wicked. He felt the softness of her thumb pad touch the side of his face, and mock growled at her as he took it in his teeth and worried at it. She laughed, leaned forward and kissed him again.

Somebody else cleared their throat. “A hello would be nice, Hen,” said the familiar voice, and he paused in kissing the delightful creature now sitting on his lap to say hello to his friend.

“Hello Kai.”

“Hello Henjo. How you feeling?”

“Horny, by the looks of that bump under the bedclothes,” said Yoz, grinning around the end of the cigarette butt she had clenched between her teeth. Henjo snorted and lay back, Polaris making herself comfortable under his arm, her head resting on his chest. Kai pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed, Henjo noticing for the first time that his arm was in a sling; he settled back and grinned at his friend, eyes alight with mischief.

“So,” Kai said, ignoring Yoz’ black look, “you want to hear what really happened, at the end?”

~*~

Henjo opened one eye, squinting up at the rock that hovered over his head. Polaris, curled against his chest, was whimpering with a combination of pain and fear, staring up at the impossibility of the death hanging right over them.

“If you’re done staring,” grated Yoz’ voice from out of the gloom of rock dust and ice, “I’d appreciate it if you’d get your skinny backside through the portal before I drop this lot.”

Wriggling free of the rubble that had fallen down around his hips he staggered forward, moving through the thick mist of fine debris toward the strained voice of the Magus. As soon as they were out from under the slab that had been trembling over them it slipped to the floor with a crash that shook his teeth in his sockets, making him jump and turn, the squeaking bat clutched close.

“This is getting heavy, Hen, so if you wouldn’t mind...?”

She was on one knee, palms braced over her head like Atlas carrying the world. She may not have had the entire planet on her shoulders, but there was a hell of a lot of rock up there. He remembered that they were actually under a mountain, and felt sick.

“Which way?”

“Behind you. Ten paces should do it...ten _fast_ paces, if you would,” she muttered, the strain showing in her face. Tears of effort tracked clean streaks down her cheeks, cutting through the dust that was still sifting down like light, gritty rain. He gave a nod and stumbled through the nightmare gloom of dust and ice, spotting the faint glow of the portal only when he was right next to it. Beyond the stuttering hum he could hear voices; shouting and yelling, wondering what the fuck was happening--

He forced his legs to one last effort, and fell into the long jump back to the hangar in the desert.

~*~

“Henjo!”

“...and by the powers, Polaris....”

Voices babbled, hands grabbing him and pulling him away from the landing point, questions questions--

“What happened?”

The smells had changed, a part of his mind noted. Here was all heat and desiccated echoes of sand, sound having the peculiar flatness that was the result of moving through heated air; over there it had been moist and chilly, heavy with smashed granite and frost and hate. And the rumbling, growling sound of an entire angry mountain trying to fall on him and turn him into a greasy smear on the rocks, never forget that.

He suspected it was a sound that would haunt him for a very long time indeed.

“Where’s Yoz?”

He just had time to jerk his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the portal, then the confusion and the pain and the weirdness of it all became too much, and he fainted.

~*~

Straining everything she had Yoz rose to her feet, limbs trembling with the effort of stopping the entire mountain falling on her head. She couldn’t keep this up - pardoning the pun - for long; her reflex when the roof came in had been just to fling a shield of force up over their heads, holding it in place by sheer bloody minded stubbornness.

But that was running out. And holding it up and walking was not an option, because the shield would move with her and destabilise the whole mass, bringing more rock down until she couldn’t hold it any more and it flattened her. Which would be an ignominious end, at best.

Trying her best to ignore the fact that the portal was fading by the moment - one had already shut down, and the second was stuttering, its power almost exhausted - she began to weave lines of repulsion to arch across her, leaving a clear tunnel to the mouth of the portal. One, then another, a third crossing them--

 _Yoz? Yoz!_

 _Shuttup, I’m concentrating._ More lines, glowing red in her mind with the sheer stress of holding up the mountain.

 _Is she coming? What’s happening?_

Voices making their way through the fracture in space and time that was her ticket home, the sense of fear and panic accompanying them quite nicely, thank you very much, making her breathing speed up and her heart race. If this didn’t work - there. That should hold it.

Staring at the broken mountain hanging above her she lowered her hands, an inch at a time, ready to snap them back up if the dread mass shifted more than an inch or two. By the time her hands reached her sides she was breathing rather easier, the hammer of the mountain’s anger balanced on the slender curve of her skill. She grinned up at it, and clicked her tongue cheerfully. _You still got it, girl._

Two paces toward the portal, eight to go--

A single boulder, jagged edged where it had been broken from the fold of solid rock that had formed the heart of the complex under the mountain, slipped between two lines and was falling toward her before she could react. All she had time to do was fling herself forward, thinking for a split second that she’d made it, she was out and--

The pain that tore through her when it slammed into her leg, trapping her a mere pace or two from safety, told her otherwise. In far too much pain to scream she just thrashed, feeling bone ends grind and blood run as she grunted and cursed, wordless expressions of frustrated fury as she clawed at the rubble, so close to home and so far--

~*~

They heard the crunch, reverberating through the fading wormhole where they waited. Dirk took a pace toward the entrance, shouting the Mage’s name, but was stopped by Carl’s grip on his arm.

“You can’t go through! You’ll be trapped!”

“Fuck that,” snapped Kai, and flung himself through anyway.

~*~

She was still scrabbling when Kai reached her side, grabbing her arm and shaking it to get her attention. She half rolled, eyes almost mad with a combination of rage and fear, and pushed him back toward the wormhole.

“Go! Kai! Fuck!”

He pushed the rock, setting his shoulder to it and heaving, achieving no more than making it rock. It eased the pressure on her leg for a moment then, when it swayed back, bit into her just as firmly as it had before. The temporary arch over them creaked, the vengeance of the mountain becoming impatient.

“No. Yoz, come on - how can we get this off you?”

She lay flat on the rocky floor, face planted in the dust and breathing harsh, great gouts of vapour bursting from her to freeze on the razor edged flakes of fallen rock where she clawed at the detritus.

“You can’t. Go, Kai. Save yourself, for fuck’s sake.”

He glared at her.

“Don’t be stupid!”

Putting his shoulder to the rock once more he focused everything he had on the effort, summoning up every ounce of whatever force had sustained him thus far. He gathered it until he felt he could burst, then shoved half behind and half in front, using his body as a fulcrum to lever the huge piece of granite back and away.

It moved, and she swore by his feet, drawing blood from the ends of her fingers where she was digging through the rubble to pull away. The pain must, he thought, be awful - but he could give her one more push.

Shrieking with the effort he did it again, the strain snapping something in his arm with a twang. He could feel the fury of the surrounding air battering at his mind as the rock moved, freeing her horribly mangled leg from beneath its fatal grip.

“I’m out!” she gasped, and he staggered back, glittering specks of exhaustion and pain crowding his vision. Pulling himself together he bent, dragging her up to lean on him, putting her weight half on him and half on the leg not totalled by the falling boulder. They staggered the last few paces to the wormhole and paused, watching it; one moment it was there, then it was gone, then back--

“If we time this wrong we’re fucked,” she gurgled, shaking where she leaned against him.

“Best get it right then,” he snorted, and was rewarded with a tired little laugh.

Off, then on, off, then--

They jumped.

~*~

The tips of the mountains still glowed pink from the setting sun, but the lake had shaded to a slate-grey, sliding toward the black mirror it would become when night finally completed its fall over the landscape. The moon was beginning to rise, a few stars showing in the deepening purples of the clear sky; it was going to be a beautiful night.

“The ones who fell are never truly lost as long as they live in our hearts and our minds. The death of the body is part of the cycle of existence; the particles that we are made of came from the stars, and to the stars we shall return - in the fullness of time.”

Omega spoke from atop a boulder beside the lake, his voice carrying with ease to touch each one of them with his message of gratitude and thanks.

As one, the crowd shuffled to the edge of the lake, the sonorous melody of his words following them as they watched for the reflection of the stars to appear in the glassy surface.

“This battle was won, even though the cost was so terribly, terribly high. The war goes on, as it has since the beginning of time; but one day, we shall all be able to rest. As those who have passed before us rest, earning their repose amongst the endless stars.”

The first star flared across the mirror of water, and at the same time a tiny boat was launched. In it was a flicker of light, a tiny flare of earthly brilliance to shine back up at the stars that now flecked the surface in all their glory; Dirk watched it move away from him, carrying with it a face and a form of one he would never forget, and he whispered a name before rising and making room for the next. More joined it, each one being launched with a name, a memory, a comrade or a friend or a brother.

“But we shall not rest yet, although today is not for fighting. Today we remember them.”

~*~

Drawing back to a grassy hill that overlooked the lake Yoz found Dirk, talking to the black mare who’d carried him into the battle. She nodded to the Magus, but didn’t interrupt what she was saying.

“It was Lord Basti’s idea, from what I heard,” she was telling him, her voice quiet in the night. “They regard this lake as their birthplace, the caves in the mountains above us their spiritual home. Once a year they come here to remember their dead; they wait for the stars to come out, and launch a light for each soul that has gone ahead.”

“It’s a very graceful ceremony,” said Yoz, leaning on her crutches as she watched the flotilla spreading across the dark surface, led by the flame launched in memory of Hephaestus. So very many lights. So many of the company that would never love, laugh, or fight again.

“Thank you,” said a tired voice from behind her, and she turned to see Basti being assisted by Kai up the slope, Henjo and Polaris just behind them. He leaned on Yoz and rested his face on her shoulder for a moment. “I shall miss them all, Yolanda. But some of them--”

He broke off, shaking his head. She sighed, freeing one hand from her crutches to loop an arm around his shoulders and hold him close.

“Chara was my friend too,” she told him, and Dirk was surprised to see tears glimmering in her eyes. “Ah, you think I don’t feel it when a friend falls, Dirk? I spent quite some time with the Vespertillo, a good few summers ago. She taught me a lot. She had a lot of time for a noisy human with a chip on her shoulder and a wish to know everything--”

She sighed, staring out over the vast mountain lake, too choked by memories to speak. Travelling amongst the steady, reflected glory of the stars was a warmer glow, myriad flickers of live flame sailing down the path of the Milky Way to whatever peace they could find amongst the cold but brilliant scattered stars of the galaxy.

Basti turned away from Yoz and nestled himself into Kai, the two of them embracing and relishing the beat of life through their bodies, the vitality that carried them through each day restored. This was to be a time of many goodbyes; the Weavers would be using their construct of space-time to move the Arcadians, the Vespertillo that didn’t live in Europe - and other races that could no longer travel freely - home. With the Illuminati in disarray all could take some time to regroup, to grieve, to plan for the future and to absorb the mad happenings of the past few months into their own mythologies; songs and stories were already being composed and passed from mouth to ear, and the legends were spreading as fast as only whispers can.

People began to trail away from the lake, back along the path that led to where the residents of the Turin House would be bussing them back down the mountain and away to their homes, scattered far and wide across the planet. Two of them paused, waving up at the little group on the hill; they waved back, sending silent good wishes to their friends the librarian and the experimental alchemist.

Dan and Eero found their way to them, puffing a little from the steep climb.

Basti greeted them with his usual graceful solemnity, then cupped Kai’s face with his thumbs and kissed him gently on the lips. “It’s time for me to take my people home, Kai.”

He rested his forehead against Basti, looping his arms around his shoulders. If you’d ever told him he would have become so attached to a strange creature half-bat-half-human--

“Will I ever see you again?” he asked, and Basti found that he could just about summon up a small smile, a flash of those sharp white teeth in the darkness.

“You never know, my friend. You never know.” He kissed Kai on the forehead. “Safe journey, my earth-bound brother. Polaris?”

She gave Henjo a last long, thorough kiss and hug, twining her tail around his thigh and giving it a squeeze. She whispered something in his ear that made him grin, then stepped to Basti’s side with a bow.

“My Lord,” she said.

They took off with a clap of warm, strong wings, circling the little group on the hill for a moment before turning away, gaining height and calling to their brethren until the stars were all but hidden behind the mass of loyal wings, heading for the safety of their caves and their hidden places in the mountains. Squinting to watch them, black shapes against the diamond glitter of the clear night, they saw them assume their travelling formation and vanish into the darkness, the sound of their wings and their cries fading soon after.

The valley seemed very empty without them.

Dirk’s mare bowed to him, touching her forehead to his hand when the steady thump of hooves indicated Mabon’s arrival at a measured, graceful canter.

“Dawn daughter,” he rumbled, “it is time to leave.”

 

“Mabon,” said Yoz, but had no time to say more before he trotted across and enfolded her in a huge, warm hug, lifting her from her feet with a chuckle reverberating through his massive chest.

“Good journey, Magus. And may we meet again in happier days.”

“Put me down, you great oaf! And - yeah. You never know, eh?”

Mabon made his affectionate, really rather boisterous goodbyes to Kai, Dan and Eero before turning to Dirk and sobering, standing in front of him with his hooves firmly planted in the short, fragrant turf, expression almost unreadable in the gloom.

Dirk felt very short in front of the huge chestnut centaur.

So he was astonished when Mabon bowed, going to his knees before him, Dawn echoing the gesture by his side.

“You have performed a great service for us,” he said, his voice a deep, quiet rumble in the night. “Hephaestus was one of our greatest rulers - and you spared him much suffering, before the end.”

“Mabon, I--”

Both centaurs rose, and the chestnut stallion took Dirk’s hands in his, engulfing the long fingers in his massive grip. “You will always be remembered as one of our truest friends. You performed the hardest task one of us can ever ask of one of our comrades, and you did not flinch from the terrible duty. You released him to run freely before us amongst the stars, and your name shall be remembered for as long as his - and he was one of our finest. His was a great soul and a warm heart; but not, I think, as warm as yours.”

He released Dirk’s hands, and stepped back to allow Dawn to approach him. “My father,” she said, her voice true and clear against the glorious night, covering the startled gasps of shock, “would have wanted you to have this. It is very old, and very precious to our people and my line - it has been handed down since the time when the world was new and we ran freely amongst the woods and meadows with none to challenge us. We can never repay our debt to you, but we want you to accept this token and know that if ever we can be of assistance to you, we shall do our best to oblige.”

She passed him a beautiful, finely wrought bracelet that glittered silver fire in the moonlight. In the centre of the brilliant weave nestled a ruby, polished to a silken lustre that took the breath away - until Dirk tilted it, and saw the figure of a centaur that had been somehow carved into the very heart of the gem, the lines describing the movement and power of the galloping stallion with an awesome economy of gesture. He admired it for a moment, then shook his head.

“I can’t accept this. It’s too much--”

Both centaurs folded his fingers over the object, smiling at his confused bluster.

“It is our wish, that of our people and of Hephaestus’ line. Please.”

Kai snorted. “Just say thank you, Dirk.”

He shook his head, looking down at the hands that covered his own. “If I could have got him out--”

Dawn moved close, resting her forehead against his temple and holding him close to the warmth of her body. “You would have, I know.”

Hugging her back, Dirk tried to speak, then cleared his throat and tried again. “I didn’t know he was your father.”

The smile she shot back at him was as impish as her sire’s ever was. “There was no need, my friend. Now put it on - I want to see if it looks as handsome around your wrist as I hoped.”

She flicked her tail and winked at him, drawing a wry snort of amusement from Yoz.

“She’s his daughter, all right.”

It fitted, and Dirk looked up at Mabon who also dropped him a wink before holding up his own brawny arm. “We had to have it resized a little. It fits?”

Speechless, Dirk nodded. The centaurs both hugged him again, Mabon kissing him on the forehead and Dawn giving him a rather more thorough one on the mouth; laughing under her breath at his expression, they bowed again and turned to canter down the slope. In moments they were lost to sight, joining the line of their brethren taking the pass into the mountains where the Weavers waited to send them home.

“Well,” said Kai after a moment, “time to go. Are you--”

“Actually,” said Yoz, “I was going to sit up here for a bit. You know. Think some stuff through.”

“Want some company?” Dirk asked, and she inclined her head to him.

Kai rolled his eyes.

“Fine, you two stay up here and freeze your backsides off. We’re going down - you sure you going to be OK?”

“We’ll be fine. Now bugger off, there’s a good chap, eh?”

Grumbling and laughing they wandered off down the slope, voices fading as they hurried after the last of the stragglers from the ceremony, heading for the busses and a beer or two back at the refined elegance of the House. Dirk settled himself beside Yoz on the grass, watching the lake and its endless burden of stars.

“Oh,” he said, rummaging in the pocket of his jacket, “I forgot. This is yours.”

He gave her the smooth globe of her room, roiling surface now echoing the parade of winking lights above and before them, flashing through the spectrum like a nova before swirling the cloudy shades of a summer day in an eyeblink of brilliance. Yoz laughed, stowing it in one of the pockets of her own tattered leather jacket.

“I think it’s pleased to see me,” she said with a smile.

They fell silent, breathing in the peace of the valley, thinking over the events that had caught them up in their horrifying maelstrom, remembering and planning and - in Dirk’s case - wondering what the Hell he was going to do next. She nudged him with her elbow.

“It’s going to be just fine, Dirk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Her grin was faintly evil.

“Trust me,” she added, and laughed when he grunted, bumping his shoulder against hers hard enough to roll her over in the grass.

They rolled together, wrapping their arms around each other for comfort, and watched the steady march of the stars across the skies until the first light of dawn streaked the tips of the mountains, stroking its warmth across the empty surface of the placid lake.

It was a new day.

~*~

“So they let you off, just like that?” asked Michael, arching one eyebrow at Kai in disbelief. His friend laughed.

“No, it was not ‘just like that’!”

“It was horrible,” said Henjo, pulling such a face that Andi snorted at him, “they arrested us and questioned us and scratched their heads at us and in the end had to admit that we hadn’t done it. Bastards.”

“Well, I am glad you didn’t do it,” said Markus with a wink. Kai sighed.

“It was the worst moment of my life,” he said, and the gathering around the table went quiet. After the dust had settled and the Rosicrucian force had dispersed the Order had set to work making sure that Kai and the others would stay out of prison for a murder they didn’t commit; in the end they had all been arrested and questioned, but had very soon been released. Not only was there no evidence to link them with the crime but they had, they thought, found the real culprit; a young man obsessed with the band, deadly jealous of anyone who got close to his hero. He’d shot himself with remorse, leaving a suicide note and enough trace evidence to link him with the crime.

Yoz had assured them that the young man had indeed been part of the Illuminati plot, and had taken his own life - but the rest....

Well. They were clever, those experimental alchemists. And the Order had, after all, been doing this sort of thing for a very long time.

The police had grumbled about not being able to charge them with anything, but had to let them go free. It had been big news in the music press for a while, but had - like all such things - faded into memory with speed as soon as the next scandal came along.

To Kai’s surprise Yoz had decided to stick around for a while, finding digs in Hamburg and setting herself the task of teaching Kai rather more than just the rudiments of magic. She’d even muttered about inducting him into the Council of Mages one day, but he’d believe that when he saw it. In the meantime he was having a ball learning more about magic than he’d ever dreamed existed, let alone thought he’d ever be able to do.

The festival season was almost over by the time the legal wrangling had ended but the implosion of another band had allowed the Rays to be invited to perform at one of the last; a definite bonus to this particular event was the presence of several old friends, and after the show they gathered in the backstage bar to drink, take the piss out of each other and catch up on recent events. Around the table were most of Helloween and Gamma Ray, less their drummers; they’d vanished some time earlier, a bet over a girl in the air and trouble, no doubt, afoot.

Kai sat back, and watched Yoz taking the piss out of Sascha at the bar. It was hysterical, really; she was well over a foot shorter than he, but there was little doubt as to who was winning whatever the argument was. She swept a double handful of beer bottles from the bar, and sashayed her way back to the table, directing cheerful obscenities at anyone who got in her way.

Michael watched her, narrowing his eyes through the cloud of cigarette smoke.

“And you say she is who, Kai?”

“Ah...my teacher.”

“Teaching you what?”

“Stuff. Just...things, Michael. Nothing important.”

She arrived back at the table, distributing drinks and insults in equal measure. Squeezing herself onto the bench seat between Kai and Henjo she started into her beer, watching the bantering between the friends with bright eyes.

Sascha arrived back, and was promptly told off for forgetting half the order. He rolled his eyes, objecting that it wasn’t his fault--

“Nah, by the time the blood gets up high enough to reach his brain it’s run out of oxygen,” said Yoz with a grin, and he flipped her the finger. She made kissy noises back, laughing her triumph when Mike told him to go back and get more drinks. Kai turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

“You did pay for those, didn’t you?”

“Course I did.”

“How?”

“Magic plastic, mate.”

The Rays groaned, making the other band eye them with surprise. It hadn’t been that good a joke, so--

Sascha got back, telling them that the waitress would be round with the rest of their order shortly. Markus hooded his eyes, leaning back in his seat and snorting at the youngster.

“It’s not his fault. He’s in love and he didn’t get her number....”

“Oh yes?” grinned Henjo.

Yoz watched Markus. There was an awful lot more to that one than met the eye; he played the straight man remarkably well, but there was something going on behind that sleepy expression that--

“She was _normal_ sized,” said Sascha dreamily, “not like you little people.”

Kai made a rude noise.

“Even without the heels she would have been taller than me--”

“Wait,” said Yoz, frowning. “Six nine?”

“I suppose,” sighed Sascha.

“Red hair? Green eyes?” said Kai, feeling ice water running down his spine.

“Long nails?” added Henjo with a shudder.

“She did, yes. Why? Do you know her?”

“What did she say?” asked Yoz. By now everyone in the little group was staring, Markus, Michael and Andi wondering why the Rays had gone so pale.

“She said,” and Sascha looked at the ceiling, frowning as he remembered, “that she’d enjoyed the show, and that now she saw the point. Then we talked for a little bit and she left. Without,” he added, “leaving me her number.”

Silence fell over the table. Kai had dropped his head and was banging it quietly amidst the beer bottles, Henjo had gone white and Dirk looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Oh, shit,” said Yoz.

 _~The End...probably....~_


End file.
